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Mr. Outwright was a welcome caller everywhere. — Pag-e 64. 


AN ODD EELLOW 


jfjt Cate of Co-bay 


/ 

CARLISLE B. HOLDING 



/ flfr-CUt, 


CINCINNATI: CRANSTON & CURTS 
NEW YORK : HUNT & EATON 
1895 



COPYRIGHT 

BY CRANSTON & CURTS. 
1895 - 




CONTENTS 


PAGE. 

I. Starting a New Paper 5 

II. Love’s Young Dream, 19 

III. The Truth, 29 

IV. Forewarned, . 36 

V. One Degree Higher, 50 

VI. Two Odd Feeeows, 63 

VII. In the Toies, 76 

VIII. The Burgear Caught, 89 

IX. The Seeect Schooe, 109 

X. A Peausibee Peea, 121 

XI. Considering the Evidence, 133 

XII. A Feood of Light, 141 

XIII. Peotting Mischief, 153 

XIV. Buieding on the Sand, 161 

XV. A Peeasant Prison, 169 

XVI. Bitter-sweet, 180 

XVII. Cross Purposes, 188 

XVIII. The Prayer Meeting, 197 

XIX. Expeanations, 210 

XX. Mr. Christie, 220 

XXI. A Poeiticae Scheme, 229 

XXII. A Strange Disappearance, 238 

XXIII. Peots, 246 

XXIV. Temperance Meeting, 262 

XXV. Appearances Deceitfue, .... 269 


3 


4 


ILL USTRA TIONS. 


PAGE. 

XXVI. Views and Interviews, 2 79 

XXVII. A Proposal of Marriage, 290 

XXVIII. An Unmated Pair, 3 OJ 

XXIX. The Convention, 3 IG 

XXX. Jennie Jessup, 3 26 

XXXI. Two Calls, 335 

XXXII. Searching the Records 343 

XXXIII. An Unexpected Return 355 

XXXIV. The Day-dawn, 363 

XXXV. Mishaps and Haps, 373 

XXXVI. A Double Accident, .... 385 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE. 

Mr. Outwright was a welcome caller EVERY- 
WHERE, Frontispiece. 

“ Never you mind Dan. Leave him to me,” said 

THE CHIEF OF POLICE, ... 41 

“Why, WHAT HAS HAPPENED NOW?” SHE ASKED, IN 

SOBERED EARNESTNESS, 143 

“ NOW, WHAT, MOTHER?” SHE SAID, TURNING ROUND ON 

THE STOOL TO FACE MRS. JESSUP, 210 

“ Hello, Seth!” Thaddeus exclaimed, 275 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


i. 


STARTING A NEW PAPER. 

UDGE, do n’t you know I am getting aw- 



fully tired, do n’t you know, of the poky 
way the Gazette is run, hey?” 

“I believe I have heard you say so before,” 
Judge Tracy replied, with a smile. 

“Well, don’t you know, if a few of us fel- 
lows, do n’t you know, should chip in a hundred 
or two all around, do n’t you know, we could 
get up a respectable paper — something Bram- 
bleville would be proud of, do n’t you know, 
hey ?” 

“Perhaps so, Thompson; but who would 
edit it ?” 

“Never mind that. Don’t you know there 
are plenty of young fellows — bright young 
scamps — who would make things hum, do n’t 
you know, if we would give them a chance, 
hey ? Do n’t you know, we need n’t go very 
far from the Gazette office to find one, either, 


6 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


don’t you know? Now, there is Throckmorton, 
do n’t you know?” 

“ Perhaps, Thompson ; but Brambleville has 
as many papers now as it can support ; more, 
in fact, than it needs. How they all live is a 
mystery to me.” 

. “But, don’t you know, there isn’t a decent 
paper in the whole lot, don’t you know? If we 
had a paper with snap and sparkle, do n’t you 
know, all the others would die out, do n’t you 
know — a survival of the fittest, do n’t you know, 
is about what it would amount to, do n’t you 
know ?” 

“ Then, what would become of the other fel- 
lows, Captain ? Old Uncle Monmoskin has been 
in the business here ever since long before the 
war.” 

“So he has ; and to tell you the truth, Judge, 
he has stuck to Brambleville ; and, as for that, 
Brambleville has stuck to him, do n’t you know? 
But he is a fossil, don’t you know?” 

“There comes Charlie Christie. I know his 
jump on the stairs. He usually comes up two 
or three steps at a time. See what he will say 
about it,” the judge said, eying the door. 

“Charlie is pretty spry, do n’t you know, for 
one of his age? But say, Judge, they tell it on 
Charlie that he has a soft spot for a relative of 
yours, do n’t you know, and is spryer than usual, 


STARTING A NEW PAPER. 


7 


do n’t you know, trying to discount forty-odd 
years, don’t you know?” the captain replied, 
teasingly. 

“He is not coming here. Stopped in the 
first office, I guess.” 

“He did, did he? That settles it! Don’t 
you know, gossip says that Mr. Lysander is not 
averse to the matter, do n’t you know?” the cap- 
tain persisted. 

“Mr. Lysander? Not averse? I do not un- 
derstand you, Captain.” 

“Why, Charlie is courting the eldest daugh- 
ter, to be plain about it.” 

“That child? Here he comes now.” 

“How are you, Judge? Good-morning, Cap- 
tain ! Fine day again ! Remarkable weather, 
all in all ! Ought to please everybody ! Ha ! 
ha! ha!” 

“Glad to see you! Have a chair, Charlie. 
We were just wishing you would come in.” 

“Thanks, Judge. O! ah! Wanted to see 
me ? Then I am not interrupting you, Judge? — 
Captain ? Do n’t let me, I beg you.” Charlie 
bowed to each profoundly, and took the offered 
chair. 

“No; no interruption, Charlie. No one ever 
interrupts me, you know.” Saying this, the 
judge lighted another cigar. 

“Thanks! O ! ah ! I was just thinking of — 


8 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


ah ! — a scheme that might be worked to our 
mutual benefit. Ha! ha! ha! I tell you, 
Judge — and Captain — I do n’t know — ha ! ha ! — 
how you stand, either of you, on the subject ; 
but Uncle Monmoskin has been a very good 
editor — ha ! ha ! — in his day — that is to say, be- 
fore the war — ha ! ha ! But times have changed 
since then — ha ! ha ! — and you must have no- 
ticed how awfully dry the Gazette is.” 

“The very thing, don’t you know, Charlie, 
I was just saying to the judge, do n’t you know, 
when we heard you coming up the steps, do n’t 
you know?” 

“Coming up the steps ! Ha! ha! ha! That’s 
pretty good. Do you recognize — O ! ah ! — any- 
thing peculiar in my coming up the steps ? 
Ha! ha!” 

“ We all have our peculiarities, do n’t you 
know, Charlie?” the captain said, soothingly. 
“And when you come up the steps, don’t you 
know, you come like thunder, do n’t you know, 
Charlie — two steps at one time, do n’t you know? 
A body would n’t think it, either, seeing, do n’t 
you know, the gray hairs — an occasional gray 
hair — don’t you know?” 

“Early piety, Captain — O! ah! — but — ha! 
ha ! ha ! — I do n’t walk on my head ! It is n’t 
coming up-stairs two steps at a time that makes 
gray hairs !” 


STARTING A NE W PAPER. 


9 


“But, say, don’t you know, we must have 
another paper. Uncle Monmoskin has outlived 
his day, do n’t you know? And, say, Charlie, 
do n’t you know, I believe the judge, here, is 
with us, do n’t you know?” 

The judge smiled broadly, turned his chair 
toward the window, and watched the clouds go 
by, saying nothing. 

“Silence — ha! ha! — gives consent, Judge — 
ha ! ha ! — and we — ah ! — well, we know you will 
help us out. Ha ! ha ! ha ! 

“Have you spoken to any one else about it?” 
he asked, wheeling about to face them again. 

“No, Judge; for — ah ! — to tell you the truth — 
ha ! ha ! — I knew it was n’t much use to talk it 
up, unless you were in it. Ha ! ha ! ha ! You 
know — ah ! — how that is, yourself.” 

“It doesn’t matter much about me,” Judge 
Tracy said, modestly, though he knew it all 
rested with him ; for while others would give 
their money, he must give the scheme stability 
by his hearty indorsement. Indeed, only a few 
could be induced to act independently ot him 
in any public or private enterprise. 

“But, don’t you know, it makes all the dif- 
ference in the world, do n’t you know, whether 
you are with us or not, do n’t you know ? Of 
course, ycfti know it !” 

“Suppose you call Simon up; and send for 


IO 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


Major Morrison. We might have a little talk 
about it, whatever we do,” he suggested, quietly. 

“ I will go right off — ah ! — if you will wait 
here, Captain. I will be back in ten minutes, 
or less, with Simon and the major, too. They 
are both in Simon’s store. Ha! ha! ha! Judge, 
I see you are with us — ha! ha! — and the scheme 
is bound to win. Ha ! ha ! ha !” 

Mr. Christie bounded out of the room, and 
his feet beat the long-roll on the stairs as they 
rattled down to the street. 

“By the way, Captain, did you find a buyer 
for that house and lot on Cherry Street?” 

“Not yet, Judge. The fact is, don’t you 
know, I am not anxious to sell, even at that 
figure? Everybody seems to be in a selling 
mood, don’t you know? Guess I will keep that 
piece, and buy next to it, do n’t you know, and 
hold for a rise, do n’t you know?” 

“I thought you and Charlie were on a trade 
for the Wentworth property.” 

“We were, don’t you know; but Charlie is 
going to build an extension to his drug-store, 
do n’t you know, so as to have entrances on 
both streets, do n’t you know, and he backed 
out, don’t you know? Glad he did, for I will 
take it all myself. A smashing good piece of 
property, do n’t you know, that Wentworth cor- 
ner is?” 


STARTING A NEW PAPER. 


11 


“Pretty soon you will own all the town, 
Captain.” 

“Guess not, Judge. I am only picking up 
what other folks throw away, don’t you know? 
Can’t blame me for that — nobody can, do n’t 
you know?” 

Then they puffed their cigars in silence, and 
waited. 

“They are coming! Hear Charlie’s laugh!” 

“Simon is telling one of his funny stories, 
do n’t you know? The only funny thing about 
Simon’s stories, do n’t you know, is Simon him- 
self, and his innocent laugh, do n’t you know?” 

“ Pretty good Jew, for all that.” 

“Judge, I wish we had just a thousand Jews 
like Simon in Brambleville, don’t you know?” 

“Very few like him.” 

“The last of his tribe, do n’t you know, and 
no one to take his wealth when he is gone, 
do n’t you know? — not a chick or child, and no 
near kin.” 

“Can’t buy that block of stores of him, I 
guess?” 

“Not for twice its value, do n’t you know? 
Simon is queer about some things, do n’t you 
know, and will not sell a foot of Brambleville 
property, do n’t you know?” 

“And buys all he can get?” 

“Yes; and, do n’t you know, he learned that 


2 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


trick of me, don’t you know? I happened to 
tell him one day, do n’t you know, something 
about my scheme ; and here he goes, do n’t you 
know, and beats me at my own game, do n’t 
you know? A sly coon is Simon, Judge.” 

“Sly? Yes, but in the better sense. He 
would not take advantage of a child. He is 
perfectly transparent in his dealings ; but shrewd, 
nevertheless.” 

“Well, here we are, Judge. Ha! ha! ha! 
And, what do you think? They were actually 
talking about the same thing ; that is — O ! ah ! — 
they were lamenting the lack of a paper in 
Brambleville that is up to the mark and the 
times — ha ! ha ! — as it were, when I went after 
them.” 

“Indeed ! That is quite a coincidence.” 

“I didn’t tell you, Simon, and Major,” with 
a nod toward each, “ what — O ! ah ! — the judge 
wanted with you ; but you see, we — ah ! — that 
is, the captain and myself — were just discussing 
the question of — ah ! well — you know, the Ga- 
zette ! It is antiquated — ha ! ha ! — and — O ! 
ah ! — we thought another paper might be 
started to represent Brambleville progress and 
position ; and we — ah ! — that is, Judge Tracy 
here — suggested that we get together, and talk 
it over — ha ! ha ! — so I went for you — ha ! ha ! 
How does it — that is — ha! ha! — how do you 


STARTING A NEW PAPER \ 


13 


feel about it, Simon ? Ha ! ha ! It is only — 
ah ! — a little interchange of private opinion. 
Ha! ha!” 

“Az fo’ me,” Simon said, spreading out his 
hands, and extending his arms in a gesture of 
sincere frankness, “ awf c’os’, annudder baper 
means more eggsbense for advurtidesment wid 
no addigate redurns for the oudlay ; fo’, awf 
c’os’, de Gayzette reages all my gustomers, and 
more, too ; bud I am for ’t, ef thay rest of thay 
boys air. P’raps we kin hev lots ov fun findin’ 
oud w’are all de eggsbenses cotn^in, eh, Judge? 
I am in fur annyding thay rest of thay boys air 
in fur, from a noosebaper to zygloramy of Ad- 
landy.” 

“ As for advertising, Simon — ha ! ha ! — I will 
just withdraw from the Gazette , and double up 
on our paper, ha ! ha ! for — O! ah ! — I, ha ! ha ! 
look upon such expense as — ah — just so much 
contributed to the press, anyway — ha ! ha !” 

“And the judge, don’t you know, could 
throw all his legal ad’s to our paper, do n’t you 
know, and never feel it? His clients have to pay 
all advertising bills, anyway, don’t you know; 
and, don’t you know, the Judge would make 
them help us that way, don’t you know?” 

“ Guess my clients and Simon’s customers, 
and Charlie’s too, are all in the same boat. 
They all have to pay a little more for what 


1 4 AN ODD FELL O W. 

they get to make up for advertising expense. 
Is n’t it so, Simon ?” 

“May be so, Judge, may be so! Id maygd 
no diffrunce to me-e-e w’ere I advurdize, so I 

advurdizeN 

“ But say, boys, why not get Uncle Mon- 
moskin to brush up the old Gazette — get a new 
editor, buy new type, and so on? Then we 
could get along without a new paper. To tell 
the truth, I dislike to go back on the Gazette at 
this late day. It was a blessed good thing to 
get hold of the Gazette down at the front in war 
times. I used to read it through, advertise- 
ments and all, especially home advertisements, 
if I do n’t now. Why, when we were about to 
go ‘marching to the sea’ with Sherman, I re- 
member I read Charlie’s drug advertisements, 
and wished I had a drink of his soda-water ; for 
he had a picture of the fountain in the paper,” 
Major Morrison said. 

“Soda-water! Now, Major, don’t you know 
that is a little thin? Not many soldiers, don’t 
you know, ever broke through the guard-line, 
don’t you know, to get soda-water? Wasn’t it 
the ‘pure drugs, etc.,’ of Charlie’s ad. that^ 
caught your eye ? That etc. means a good deal, 
don’t you know, in a drugstore ad., don’t you 
know?” Captain Thompson said, with hilarious 
laughter. 


STARTING A NEW PAPER. 


15 


“ Perhaps the major’s suggestion is the right 
thing to do. Suppose we see Monmoskin first. 
There is no little risk in establishing a new pa- 
per, however ably managed,” Judge Tracy said, 
when all were quiet again. 

“ It is hard to cure an old dog of his tricks, 
don’t you know, and the Gazette , Judge, has 
tricks as old as the hills, don’t you know? 
Washing machines and little liver-pills, don’t 
you know, are more important than news from 
Washington, do n’t you know?” 

“ Well, ah — ha! ha ! — there is sometimes more 
stir in washing machines than in Washington — 
ha, ha ! ha, ha ! ha !” 

“That reminds me, don’t you know, that 
Uncle Monmoskin is in Washington City this 
blessed minute, don’t you know?” 

“He is? What for?” 

“Place and power, Judge. Why he expects 
the President to do great things for him, don’t 
you know, because he printed his picture, do n’t 
you know, head of column next to reading mat- 
ter, do n’t you know, all last summer?” 

“ Last summer ! Why, there was no cam- 
paign last summer.” 

“ Of course not, Judge ; but, do n’t you know, 
it is a great thing to keep one’s place and face 
before the people, don’t you know? And then, 
don’t you know, no other paper in the State 


i6 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


could claim such devotedness, do n’t you know, 
to the President?” 

“ By the way, Captain, do you hear anything 
encouraging from your appointment?” Major 
Morrison asked. 

“Not a word, Major, don’t you know? And 
the queerest part of it is, do n’t you know, that 
no one seems to want the place I am after, do n’t 
you know? I am the only applicant, and it’s 
queer, do n’t you know, that I do n’t get it ” 
The captain took on a seriousness he did not 
feel, for life was mostly sunshine with him. 

“Well, Judge, since we are all agreed on a 
new paper, or the Gazette rejuvenated — ha! 
ha! — suppose we all — ha, ha ! ha, ha! — happen 
in on Uncle Montnoskin when he comes back — 
ha, ha! — and inquire what he will do?” 

“What do you say, Simon?” 

“ Id maygd no diffrunce to m-e-e. Awf c’os’ 
I ’d radder haf a bran new baper, but id maygd 
no diffrunce.” 

“But, don’t you know, if we started a new 
paper, we would have a bright, clean, and at- 
tractive page, do n’t you know, whereas the 
other way, we would be loaded down with old 
patent medicine plates, don’t you know, right 
from the word go?” 

“ Second-hand gloading mighty poor inveds- 
munt.” 


STARTING A NEW TAPER. 


1 7 


“Yes; it is a little like taking a case in hand 
after a jury is impaneled.” 

“ Or buying pine lands in the stumps.” 

“Or, ah — ha, ha! — like putting old corks in 
new bottles — ha! ha! 

“Well, shall we wait to see Uncle Moninos- 
kin, or shall I write out an agreement to start a 
new paper as Charlie suggested?” 

“ Write it, Judge, and we will all sign. That 
will be a starter, do n’t you know?” 

“Yes, wride it, Judge. No use cutting the 
gahment ’tel the gustomer is measured.” 

The paper was prepared and signed, and the 
company were about to separate, when Seth 
Russell entered the office, smiled on all, and 
bowed to each, and slipping across the room in 
a half-abashed way, sat down in a chair, and 
without preface or explanatory remark, asked : 

“ What is the greatest ship afloat to-day?” 

“ The Great Eastern f” 

“The City of Rome?” 

“The Thunderer , of the British Navy?” 

“ All wrong.” 

“ Then you say, Seth, for I know you have a 
catch in it somewhere, don’t you know?” The 
captain remarked, cautiously. 

“Friendship!” 

“Bah! That’s old!” Major Morrison ex- 
claimed. 


1 8 AN ODD FELLOW. 

“Right you are, Major ! Older than Methuse- 
lah, and yet as new to-day as when David and 
Jonathan set it afloat from the dry-docks, or 
when Damon and Pythias gave it new rigging 
throughout — but the same old ship that sails the 
sea forever, though wrecked on every shore ! 
Sail on, thou beautiful ship, until thy prow of 
love has flashed in every water that man may 
know, guided safe through shoals and sunken 
reefs by Truth’s unerring eye! Good-day, gen- 
tlemen.” 

“Odd fellow!” the judge said, as Seth hur- 
ried out. 

“ He is, indeed.” 

“ People think he is a ‘little off,’ do n’t you 
know; but when Seth settles down to sober 
thought, do n’t you know, he is no fool, do n’t 
you know ?” 

“ Only odd. He does more good than any 
half-dozen men in the city. Famine and fever, 
fires and funerals, always stir him up,” the ma- 
jor said, earnestly. 

“ I understand Monmoskin will be home next 
week. Come up, gentlemen, Tuesday afternoon, 
and we will all go over and see what we can do 
with him,” Judge Tracy said, as the others were 
leaving his office. 


II. 


LOVE’S YOUNG DREAM. 

U \A < /^IL'L' y° u * iave a C0 Py of the Gazelle , 

* * not yet dry from the press?” Thaddeus 
Throckmorton said to Miss Josie Tracy, who had 
waited for him at the foot of the stairs, while he 
ran up to the office for a moment before going to 
supper. 

“ Thank you !” she said, archly, taking the 
offered paper. “Is there anything in it?” she 
asked, mischievously, a moment later, as she 
glanced down the columns as they walked slowly 
toward her home. 

“Of course! The ‘Boss’ is in Washington 
City, you know, and / got this number out ‘all 
by my lone,’ ” Thaddeus replied, with a smile. 

“Did you? Then I know it is newsy and 
nice and all that, if you got it out.” 

“Thanks!” he said, gayly, and with a happy 
flutter of his heart. “ I will walk home with 
you, if you do not object,” he added, as they 
reached the corner where their paths would 
naturally diverge. 

“Object ! I shall be only too happy !” 

“ My ! it is a relief to get out of that printing- 
office awhile,” 


19 


20 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“I should think you would be tired, having 
all the work to do this week. Is that why I 
haven’t seen anything of you since last week?” 

“ In part. But have you missed me ?” 

“So much! I can not tell you how much.” 

“ Were you at the musicale Wednesday night? 
But of course you were. The Gazette has a full 
account of it, so I need not ask that,” Thaddeus 
said. 

“ Yes, I was there ; went with Cousin Jennie; 
she called for me. But it was simply horrid!” 

“ Why so? The Gazette says it was a success 
in every way, and that the piano recital by Miss 
Josie Tracy was superb.” 

“It doesn’t! But who told you anything 
about it? How dare you describe something 
you never saw, and to say playing was ‘ superb ’ 
when you never heard a note of it?” 

“I was not there, I am sorry to say, but I 
have heard you play often enough to describe 
the performance without hearing a note.” 

“O, thanks!” 

“ But, besides that, I asked ever so many who 
were there, and they all said your playing was 
just ‘too sweet for any use.’ And yet you say it 
was horrid.” 

“ It was! The music was good enough, per- 
haps; but then I was miserable all evening.” 

Thaddeus was secretly glad to hear her de- 


LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM. 


21 


clare she was miserable when he was absent, and 
fondly hoped her misery was due to his absence. 

“ May I ask the cause of your distress of 
mind?” he said. 

“ You may, but I will not tell you! Next time 
I will let you go, and I will make it convenient 
to be somewhere else, and then you can see for 
yourself how it is.” 

“But I will not go next time, since I know 
you are not to be there.” 

“Aha! see that! But you didn’t let me 
know you were not to be there this time, or I 
would not have gone either.” 

“And would you have let your Cousin Jen- 
nie go alone, after stopping for you?” 

“She did not need to go alone, nor stop for 
me, either.” 

“Why?” 

“ Mr. Morrison was with her. I do not know 
why they stopped for me. I wish now they 
hadn’t.” 

“Was Wendell Morrison with her? Did you 
go with them? I wish you hadn’t!” 

“Why? Did you call and not find me at 
home?” 

“No, I didn’t call; for I worked like a slave 
until ten o’clock that night.” 

“Then why do you wish I hadn’t gone? 
Because^Mr. Morrison was along?” 

3 


22 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“If I must say it, Josie, that is exactly why. 
But then it is impertinence for me to express a 
wish about your escorts.” 

“I do not like Mr. Morrison very much. He 
is quite entertaining when he tries to be, and 
one can hardly help liking him, just a little bit. 
He is brilliant, too. Papa thinks he will make 
one of the most successful lawyers at this bar.” 

“He is brilliant; no one can deny that,” 
Thaddeus said, rather sadly. 

“Now, do not worry, Thad. I told you I was 
lonely all the evening, and so I was. He did 
not pay one bit of attention to me after we 
got there.” 

“Is that why you were lonely?” 

“You mean thing! You just want to make 
me come right out and say I was lonesome be- 
cause you were not there, do n’t you?” 

“No, I do not want to make you say such a 
thing, Josie ; but if you could say it, and would 
say it, without being made to say it, I should 
feel happier than I do when I am left to guess 
at your meaning.” 

“Well, then, I will say just what is the 
truth : I was lonesome all evening because you 
were not there !” 

“Thank you, Josie ! And I was lonesome 
all evening because I was not there. I will be 
there next time. Will you?” 


LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM. 


23 


“If I have any one to go with me.” 

“ Leave that to me.” 

“But you may have a rush of job-work that 
night.” 

“Nothing shall interfere.” 

“But say, Thad, what is this they are talking 
about ? Is there to be a new paper started in 
town ?” 

“Not that I have heard. Who is talking 
about it?” 

“I heard papa telling mamma yesterday that 
a subscription-list was started.” 

“News to me.” 

“It is? What will you give me to be re- 
porter for you ? I believe I could get more 
items than you.” 

“ I must see your father about that. Thank 
you, Josie, for the pointer.” 

“I heard him say who was to be editor of 
the new paper ; but I suppose you would not 
care to know his name.” 

“Wouldn’t I? Why, that is worth more 
than all the rest.” 

“What will you give to know?” 

“Anything you may demand; for I know I 
can trust you not to demand too much.” 

“The half of your kingdom?” 

“Yes — the whole of it. My kingdom is ‘ex- 
ceeding small.’ ” 


24 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“But what would Mr. Monmoskin say, I 
wonder?” 

“O, he will be mad — my! how mad he will 
be ! — whoever the editor should be. I wish I 
had known it this week ; for then I could have 
printed it in the Gazette, Next week he will be 
home, and he will not let me say a word 
about it.” 

“Well, when you get a paper of your own, 
you can print what you please. 

“What do you mean? Not that / am to be 
the editor of a new paper?” 

“That is what papa said.” 

“Josie, if I only could be, I would be the 
happiest man on earth.” 

“Well, papa is in favor of it, and you know 
what he indorses generally goes through.” 

“ How you surprise me ! I never supposed 
such a thought had ever entered a mind in 
Brambleville but my own. I have been saving 
a little for a few years, hoping to get enough 
ahead to start another paper ; but I never dared 
hope Judge Tracy would help me.” 

“Now, remember, you have promised me the 
half of your kingdom ; so, if you do get the new 
office, half of it is to be mine !” 

“So I said, and so I say now. Shall I make 
out a contract and a bond?” 

“No, thank you. I will take your word.” 


LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM. 


25 


Just at that instant they reached Judge 
Tracy’s home, and were about to enter the gate 
when Seth Russell appeared, and hailed them 
gayly. 

“What an odd fellow!” Josie said, in an 
aside, as he drew near. 

“He is odd; but as true as steel, and as 
happy as the day is long,” Thaddeus replied, 
closing the gate after them, and pausing to hear 
what Seth had to say to them. 

“ Ha ! young people, you know the lines 
about Maud Muller, I suppose?” 

“Yes, we know them ; but what of that?” 

“Well, she captured the judge’s heart by a 
cup of cold water.” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, thinking of the judge made me think 
of the judge’s daughter,” glancing merrily at 
Miss Josie. 

“Yes.” 

“And that made me think of ‘words of 
tongue or pen,’ seeing an editor here at the 
judge’s gate.” 

“Yes.” 

“And that made me wish that no ‘sad words’ 

# 

should ever grieve your two hearts.” 

“Ah! thank you !” 

“And, say, Mr. Editor, what are ‘the saddest 
words of tongue or pen ?’ ” 


26 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“‘It might have been?’” Thaddeus replied 
inquiringly. 

“So the poet says, and truly too. And what 
word makes all hearts glad, and, in turn, makes 
all hearts sad ?” 

“We can not say. You tell.” 

“Love! Love is the greatest thing in the 
world. To love and to be loved is the greatest 
triumph of a lifetime. To love and not to be 
loved is the greatest defeat. My children, love 
with a pure heart fervently, and all will be well. 
But in your triumph or in your defeat — may 
Heaven save you from defeat ! — do not forget 
old Seth Russell.” 

As he hurried away, he left Josie suffused 
with blushes, and Thad silent with suppressed 
hope that the blushes meant more than her lips 
had ever spoken. 

Had his twinkling eyes read their hearts ? 

“ I must go, as sorry as I am to leave you ; 
for my mother must know of my prospective 
good fortune,” Thaddeus said, at the steps of 
the mansion. 

“Must you go? Can you not come in? I 
will give you one of your 1 superb recitals.’ ” 

“Not now, Josie ; but may I call — to-morrow 
night?” 

“Certainly. Good-bye ! Hope Mr. Monmos- 
kin will not be very mad.” 


LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM. 


27 


“That is too good a wish to be realized. 
Good-bye !” 

And so it was. 

When the committee called, as they agreed 
to do, and stated their errand, Mr. Monmoskin’s 
red face grew purple with rage, and his white 
locks trembled with excitement. He thumped 
the floor with his stout walking-stick, punctu- 
ating his reply in that way with resounding 
commas, semi-colons, and periods, and said : 

“What was Brambleville when I came here? 
Not one of you can tell. Not one of you were 
born then. It was only a stopping-place for 
stages. What is it now ? A city that any man 
should be proud to call his home. It is no 
longer a stopping-place for stages, but an im- 
portant station of three lines of railroads, a 
place of fine churches, excellent schools, a police 
force as good as earth can afford, a fire depart- 
ment, and everything that goes to make life de- 
sirable or home pleasant. It is known far and 
wide for its business, its beauty, its benevolence, 
its peace, its prosperity; and yet you would make 
it infamous for its cruel heartlessness. What 
was it when I came ? A tavern, a cross-roads 
store, a log church, — a wilderness. I started 
the Gazette ; the town grew ; the war came ; 
the Gazette was fearless ; and now, and now, 
and now ! now ! ! y-o-u ! y-o-n ! ! ask me to turn 


28 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


my back on all this growth, to deny my own 
children, to let go the helm that has guided us 
to such renown, to turn over the whole business 
to a mere tyro ! And what is he ? A creature 
of mine! You say he has talent; you say he is 
a favorite ; you say he has genius. What if he 
has? what if he has? w-h-a-t if— HE — has ? He 
ought to have. He has been with me twelve 
years ! No, gentlemen,” dropping to a milder 
tone and a gentler manner, mopping his per- 
spiring forehead and gasping for breath, “ you 
can not dictate to me ! When I need your help, 
I will send for you. After running the Gazette 
thirty years, and making Brambleville what it 
is, I need no advice from men who wore dresses 
after the Gazette was founded.” 

And then, as the committee stood silent, he 
remarked sarcastically, as he drew his chair to 
his desk : 

“This is my busiest day !” 


III. 


THE TRUTH. 



T the time the committee called on Mr. 


Monmoskin, Thaddeus was out of the 


office, having gone to secure, if possible, a col- 
umn of live advertisements, to take the place 
of “ dead plates,” as patent-medicine electro- 
types were called, after running the time con- 
tracted for by the agencies. 

He was surprisingly successful, and returned 
jubilant over his work, whistling a lively tune 
that was finished at the very threshold of the 
office by a few steps of a “ hoe-down ” dance. 

“ Mr. Monmoskin, see this ! How is that for 
advertisement copy?” he said, as he unrolled 
the sheet of wrapping-paper on which the mer- 
chant had hastily scrawled his copy for a whole 
column advertisement. 

The editor took the copy, crumpled it up 
into a wad, tossed it in the waste-basket, and 
roared fiercely at his astonished assistant : 

“I want to hear nothing from you on any 
subject. I want you to let advertisements for 
this paper alone. I have made up my mind 
that such as you shall no longer disgrace my 
office. I am done with you!” 


29 


30 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


Thaddeus was dumb with surprise, and 
choked by sudden uprising of passion. For a 
moment his heart stood still, and his face was 
white as death. After a strong effort to be 
calm, he said, with difficulty : 

“I do not understand you, sir.” 

“ Do not understand me ? Then, in the name 
of all the gods, who sent Judge Tracy, and a 
pack of his willing tools, to me, to ask that 
you — think of it! — that you should be made ed- 
itor of my paper? You an editor !” 

“I do not know — ” 

“Stop ! Stop right there ! Do not put lying 
on top of your base ingratitude.” 

“Sir!” Thaddeus said, with energy, “ no man 
shall accuse me of lying without proving his 
charge or retracting his words.” 

Thaddeus was so thoroughly mad that he 
was scarcely aware of his actions. He advanced 
threateningly toward his employer; but he did 
not intend to do him bodily injury, though the 
latter thought he did. 

“ Stand back, or I ’ll let this stick take its 
course !” the editor said, brandishing his cane. 

Some good angel whispered to Thaddeus, 
and he paused in his steps, and with wonderful 
calmness, that came to him as suddenly as a 
flash of light, he said : 

“I do not fear your cane, nor need I heed 


THE TRUTH. 


3i 


your words. Twelve years of service proves to 
you, I am quite sure, that I am neither a cow- 
ard nor a liar.” 

“ And you did not send those men to me, you 
insolent hypocrite?” 

“I did not, nor did I know they were coin- 
ing. But you shall not have occasion to repeat 
your abuse. I will leave you. Good-day !” 

The editor scowled, and hissed vengeance 
through set teeth ; but nevertheless he shouted, 
as Thaddeus closed the door behind him : 

“Never enter this office again, at your peril!” 

At any other time, Mr. Monmoskin would 
not have been so irritable, nor so vehement and 
unreasonable, perhaps ; but his visit to Wash- 
ington had not resulted as he hoped ; and no 
Government appointment obtained, he came 
home disheartened, disgusted, and full of vin- 
dictiveness. The committee and Thaddeus 
were the victims of his pent-up wrath and re- 
sentment. 

An hour after Thaddeus left the office, Mr. 
Monmoskin would have welcomed his return, 
and he hoped his faithful helper would forgive 
his harshness, and would return the next day to 
“ make up.” Vain hope ! 

That very night, just before twelve o’clock, 
Thaddeus entered the waiting-room of the rail- 
way depot, accompanied by Judge Tracy and 


32 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


Simon Hunter. He was starting for Chicago to 
buy a new and complete newspaper outfit. In 
his pocket was a bank-draft, payable to his 
order, sufficiently large to cover the cost of 
such an office, and his own savings were ample 
to meet the incidentals of such a trip. 

In Judge Tracy’s pocket was Thaddeus’s note 
for the amount of the bank-draft. 

“What value has my note?” he asked, in 
surprise, when his friends proposed to let him 
have the money to buy the office, taking his in- 
dividual paper in return. “I have nothing with 
which to secure it.” He said something of the 
same import at the depot. 

“Yes, you haf someding — you haf whole 
lots someding. Someding more waluable dan 
moonee. You haf a good name, an’ Solomon 
say dat ish bedder as grade ridges all de time, 
alretty.” 

At this, Judge Tracy smiled broadly, smoked 
his cigar vigorously, gently swung his cane be- 
hind him, and then said, his eyes closing to 
shut out the smoke of his fragrant weed : 

“If we are satisfied, you ought to be.” 

“I am glad you gentlemen think so; but I 
am overwhelmed by this unexpected kindness. 
It is the realization of a hope I have long enter- 
tained, but which I dared not look for these 
many years.” 


THE TRUTH. 


33 


“ How mooch Thad looks like his fadder, 
Judge! Bratnbleville lost a fine man when 
Richard Thruckmoortun died.” 

“That is true; but let us hope Thad will 
make up by extra ability and intenser devotion 
what we lost in his father. Dick was a brill- 
iant fellow though. He and I started in the 
law together, though I was several years older.” 

“Were you and father in partnership?” Thad 
asked, in surprise. 

“Yes, for a few weeks only ; but in that time 
I learned to love him, and expected great things 
of him if he had lived. Wendell Morrison re- 
minds me of him in his dash and daring and 
his rare eloquence.” 

“But, Joodge, Wendell has nune ov the stay- 
bileetee and solid sinse ov Ridgeard.” 

“That is so.” 

“Excuse me; but am I to understand that 
your interest in me and your kindness in this 
business enterprise are due to my father’s 
memory ?” 

“In part, yes; but, of course, had we not 
discovered in you some of the qualities that en- 
deared your father to us in our younger days, 
we would not have trusted you quite as much 
as we now do.” 

“But, say, Joodge, nune ov us haf got such 
avvecting vays in the lodge-room as — ” 


34 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“There’s my train! Good-bye, Judge! 
Good-bye, Mr. Hunter ! I will be back day 
after to-morrow. Be sure to lease that room 
over the post-office for me. I will buy enough 
type to run a daily, too. It is a little risky, but 
other places make it go. Why not here?” 

“As you think best,” said the judge, as a 
parting injunction ; “ but be careful not to overdo 
the matter at the start.” 

When the day dawned that September morn- 
ing, Thaddeus descried in the distance the blue 
waters of Lake Michigan standing up like a low 
hill, over which were flying white birds, their 
feet touching the earth, and their pinions pierc- 
ing the sky that bent over them. As the rush- 
ing train bore him rapidly toward the great 
city, the hill melted into a broad expanse of 
sparkling water, and the birds swelled into 
masted ships that sailed before the wind into 
the harbor of the metropolis of the West. 

“ It is very odd that I should be here with 
two thousand dollars in my pocket, when last 
week I should have staggered under the task of 
raising two hundred dollars.” 

“ It is odd that Thad should be in Chicago 
buying a new press for a new paper, when a 
few days ago he was wishing he could start a 
little job office of his own,” said Miss Josie 
Tracy at the breakfast-table. 


THE TRUTH. 


35 


“ So it is, my daughther, but when you are 
older you may learn there are very many odd 
fellows in this world, and there is no telling 
what odd things they will do.” 

As the judge walked leisurely down to his 
office that morning, he was overtaken by Seth 
Russell, who slackened his short, quick steps to 
suit the judge’s slow but stately stridings, long 
enough to say : 

“ What are the poet’s words about Truth, 
Judge ?” 

“‘Truth crushed to earth will rise again?’” 

“ Yes, that ’s it. ‘ Truth is mighty, and will 
prevail,’ is another. Is that in the Bible, Judge, 
or is it one of Davy Crockett’s wise sayings?” 

“ Neither, Seth, as far as I know.” 

“They say we are to have a new paper, and 
a daily at that. Is that the truth, Judge?” 

“ From present appearances it will be the 
truth before many days.” 

“And Thad Throckmorton is to edit it?” 

“Yes, that is the scheme now.” 

“ May the spirit of his murdered father be 
with him ! The truth about that awful crime 
will come out yet, Judge. Remember, Seth 
Russell told you so. Good-day !” 

“As odd as ever,” the judge said, and slowly 
walked on to his office. 


IY. 


FOREWARNED. 


HE Daily Banner was a decided sensation 



in Brambleville, and leaped at one bound 


into popular and permanent favor. 

The merchants liked the little paper, because 
in it they could announce daily bargains, and 
proclaim the arrival of new goods, and not wait 
a week for the tardy appearance of the Gazette . 

The young people liked the paper, for it put 
them in possession of the latest gossip, the coin- 
ings and goings of society, at the very earliest 
date. 

The old folks liked it because it printed daily 
predictions of the weather, as well as forecasts 
of the political world. 

Nearly everybody liked the paper because 
they liked the young editor, and discovered in 
all his projects and prophecies the excellency 
they had learned to ascribe to his character. He 
was evidently getting on in the world, and they 
were all glad that the son of Richard Throck- 
morton prospered in life. 

Except Mr. Monmoskin, who was fearfully 
afflicted with jealousy on account of the sweep- 
ing conquest of the Banner , only one other per- 


FOREWARNED . 


37 


son was annoyed by its success, or felt hostile 
toward its editor, and that person was Wendell 
Morrison. 

But as he was a member of the Legislature, 
and an aspirant for further political preferment, 
he very discreetly kept his annoyance to himself, 
and only spoke to his intimate associates of his 
hostile feelings. 

A year rolled by, and the Banner was firmly 
planted in Brambleville, and had made for itself 
an enviable reputation in adjoining counties, and 
even in the principal cities of the State. It was 
no uncommon thing to see quotations from the 
Banner in the great dailies. 

The meanwhile Thaddeus developed much 
self-reliance, and by his position as editor of the 
most vigorous paper in the county, came to be 
sought out by politicians generally, and by local 
leaders he was frequently mentioned as an avail- 
able candidate for office at the approaching 
election. 

He was not averse to serving a term or two in 
some office — for the sake of the salary attached, 
for one thing, but more especially for the stand- 
ing among men it would give him. He looked 
forward to a day when he could dispose of his 
newspaper-office, and give his whole attention 
to the law and politics. 

“ Father was Judge Tracy’s partner once,” 
4 


38 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


he said to his mother, when discussing the ques- 
tion one day, “ and who knows but that some 
day I will take father’s place!” 

His mother made no reply, but excused her- 
self from the breakfast-table for a few minutes. 
Had Thaddeus seen her agitation he would have 
known that such a turn in affairs was not a 
pleasant prospect. The new paper did not in- 
terfere with his persistent reading and studying 
law under Judge Tracy’s tutorage. 

Wendell Morrison was ambitious to be Judge 
Tracy’s law partner also; but he sought it not so 
much as an end, as did Thaddeus, but as the 
means to an end, and that end still further glory 
and power in the political field. 

Neither knew that the other coveted partner- 
ship with Judge Tracy ; but both knew that the 
other aspired to political honors. 

Wendell smiled on Thad’s ambition when in 
his presence ; but when elsewhere, and with 
those he could trust, he unbosomed his bitter 
hostility to the young editor’s aspirations. 

A favorite resort for Wendell and his coterie 
of helpers was the corner where the big tree 
stood — a corner as noted as any place in the 
village; for a huge tree grew up from the side- 
walk, and spread its heavy branches in all direc- 
tions, making a grateful shade in the day-time, 
and at night affording a darkened spot where a 


FOREWARNED. 


39 


half-dozen men could congregate unseen by 
others, but in a position to see all that occurred 
for squares down each of four streets. The spot 
was known as “ The Big-tree Corner.” 

It was here that Wendell stood one night, 
discussing, with a few friends, the political out- 
look, when he said, hissingly, just loud enough 
to be heard by those near him : 

“ Thad is as ambitious as Satan; but I will 
pull some strings he does not suspect I can 
touch, and then there will be music in the air!” 

“ The major seems to be friendly to his 
plans,” suggested Billy Barnwell, chief of police, 
who was one of Wendell’s trusted lieutenants. 

“Father? O yes; he is friendly. Has to 
be, you know. He was Throckmorton’s bosom 
friend — one of. them, I mean — Thad’s father, you 
know — and is friendly to Thad on his lather’s 
account. Father is an odd fellow anyway.” 

“ But I should think he would be for his own 
kin. Does he suspect Thad’s intention to run 
against you ?” 

“ No !” contemptuously. “ The fact is, father 
thinks I am solid all over the county. May be 
I am ; rather think so myself. But in time of 
peace prepare for war ! See ?” 

“ What will you do?” 

“ Clip his wings,” he said, viciously. “ What ’s 
this daily for? Wings! That’s all. Gets into 


40 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


homes every day instead of once a week. Comes 
into notice in the city dailies. A daily, though 
ever so small and inconsequential, outweighs 
and outruns a weekly five to one. Clip his 
wings! See?” 

“ That ’s so,” assented Billy, striking his club 
against the heavy sole of his upturned shoe. 
“ That ’s so, Wend. But how ? The daily is in 
the hearts of the people as well as their homes.” 

“ Do n’t work against it openly, for then every- 
body would drop to our game ; but let it alone, 
and quietly get others to let it alone. Get people 
to read the Herald , from Riverton. I am going 
over there, and will get the manager to have a 
special letter from Brambleville every day. It 
will cost only two cents. I can get him a cor- 
respondent here who will work for nothing, if he 
will send him the Daity Herald .” 

“ Then there is the Review . That is more 
popular here than the Herald. Work that the 
same way,” urged Sam Slimkins, another will- 
ing doer ot Wendell’s work. 

“Don’t know about that,” Wendell said, 
meditatively. “ He is correspondent for that 
paper himself. It would be hard to get him out.” 

“ Nonsense !” said Billy, positively. “ I can 
get him out.” 

“ You ! I would like to see you. How would 
you go about it?” 








































































\ 

















* 






I 










9 































“ Never you mind Dan. Leave him to me,” said the 
chief of police.”— Page 41. 




FOREWARNED. 


41 


“ Well, not me, but I know a fellow who can.” 

“ That is likely ; but can you use him? Who 
is he?” 

“ Dan Habberdown, the news agent. He is 
down on Thad because the Banner has cut into 
his sales. He does n’t sell nearly as many dailies 
as before, and he won’t touch the Banner with a 
ten-foot pole, he is so sour on Thad.” 

“ What can Habberdown do with the Review 
people ?” 

“ Everything. He can write the Review that 
their sales are falling off because Thad is their 
correspondent here, and tell them it they want 
to hold their own they must get another cor- 
respondent. Of course they will ask Dan to 
name a man who will take with the people. He 
will come to me, and I will come to you, and 
you can name the man you want, and Thad will 
have to walk the plank.” 

“ By jingo, Billy, you are a schemer ! I never 
thought it was in you. But will Dan do that?” 

“ Never you mind Dan. Leave him to me,” 
said the chief of police, confidently, whacking 
his gloved hand softly with the handle of his 
club. “ You would n’t ask such a question as 
that if you knew where I caught Dan just the 
other night. I didn’t ‘run him in,’ as I ought 
to, may be ; and now he is my man, you bet, 
just as long as I want to use him.” 


42 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


Then all laughed uproariously, for a laugh 
would not reveal any of their secrets, and they 
enjoyed Billy’s cuteness in getting a string on 
Dan Habberdown. 

“Where did you catch him?” asked Sam 
Slimkins, expecting a story of flagrant wrong- 
doing. 

“ Never mind where,” said Wendell, with a 
show of impatience. “ Let us attend to busi- 
ness, and not waste our time over Dan’s depart- 
ures from right paths. Anyway, Sam, you know 
enough meanness now, without learning any 
from Dan.” 

Again the stillness of the night was broken 
by uproarious merriment at this thrust on Sam. 
When it subsided he had rallied sufficiently to 
retort. 

“ I bet you can give Dan a pointer, and then 
beat him at his meanness.” 

“ I never have posed as a saint, and it is not 
likely I will begin now, seeing that my eye is 
on a seat in Congress,” Wendell said, good- 
naturedly. 

“ But I have got it on Dan, and no mistake,” 
interposed Billy, with a chuckle of delight. 

“ Good for you, Billy,” said Wendell, approv- 
ing^) giving th e chief of police a friendly slap 
on the shoulder. “ But see here,” he added, 
soberly, “ do not bear down too hard on the 


FOREWARNED. 


43 


Banner all at once. I do not want it to come 
out against me. All I want is to get Throcky’s 
wings clipped, so he will not dare to run against 
me in the convention for the nomination.” 

“ Perhaps the Review had better be left alone 
awhile,” suggested another. “They might 
write to Thad himself before they appointed 
another.” 

“ I have got it down fine, and do n’t you for- 
get it!” Billy replied. “Just leave that to me, 
and you will see how I play the game.” 

“ I must keep right on going to the Banner 
office as before,” said Wendell, “ and if Throcky 
should ask me to do any little thing for him, 
why I will do it, just as if nothing is in the 
wind. See?” 

“ Promise him everything, and do nothing. 
That’s the ticket,” said Sam Slimkins. “Feed 
him on taffy — he likes it.” 

“Don’t know,” said Billy. “Throcky is 
nervy. You must not crowd hitn too hard.” 

“Don’t crowd him at all,” said Wendell. 
“ Let him go along as usual, and stand by him 
in public, but give him fits in private. See?” 

“O yes; we see!” said Billy. 

“We see, and will go you one better,” said 
Sam, with a malicious smile. 

“Success to you, then!” said Wendell. 

And thus they parted for the night; but there 


44 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


had been set in motion currents and counter- 
currents that threatened to swamp Thaddeus 
and his paper in a whirlpool of conflicting and 
cruel controversies. 

More effectually to hide from Thad his part 
in the matter, Wendell assumed an unusually 
friendly manner, and frequented the Banner 
office so persistently that observant folks pre- 
dicted a union of interests, and consequent 
peaceable settlement of political contention. 

Thaddeus, however, noted with annoyance 
that the Herald was giving much space and 
great prominence to Brambleville news and 
gossip. It seemed to him unkind to reach over 
into his field, and seek to glean ahead of the 
Banner. 

After a very few days the mail brought this 
letter to Thaddeus : 

Review Office, ") 

Lakeside, October 2, 18 — . J 
Mr. Thaddeus Throckmorton, Brambleville : 

On and after the 15th of this month, we shall not need 
your services as correspondent for the Review in Bramble- 
ville. Yours truly, 

SamuEE SingeeTon, Manager. 

He read the brief note once, and read it 
again, and then again, and sat down to think. 
He had wanted to resign, as his own work was 
pressing and urgent; but kept up the Review 
items as a matter of accommodation to the 


FOREWARNED. 


45 


paper that had befriended him when he needed 
the five dollars to ten dollars a month his cor- 
respondence brought him. Now, to be dismissed 
summarily was humiliating. Perhaps there was 
a mistake that might be rectified. It was worth 
a trial, at least. Turning to his desk, he wrote : 

Mr. Samuel Singeeton, Manager Review , Lakeside : 

Dear Sir , — Please give me cause of dismissal as corre- 
spondent of the Review , as per your note just at hand. 

Sincerely, Thaddeus Throckmorton. 

With impatience he awaited the reply : 

Review Office, \ 

Lakeside, October 7, 18 — . J 

Mr. T. Throckmorton : 

Sir , — Referring to your inquiry, just at hand, would 
say our friends in Brambleville think the Review will be 
benefited by a change of correspondent. This is purely a 
business matter for business ends. 

Yours, etc., S. Singeeton, Manager. 

Thaddeus read these lines with amazement. 
Who in Brambleville could or would take the 
trouble to oust him from so inconsiderable a 
place as correspondent of the Review? He 
could fasten upon no one, and least of all did 
he suspect the chief of police, or even his rival, 
for he had been so very kind and condescending 
of late. 

He was in no amiable frame of mind when 
a friend called at the office, and said : 

“Suppose you heard about Morrison ?” 


4 6 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“No; what is it? The major, you mean?” 

“No, not the major, but Wendell.” 

“What now?” he asked, and his tone and 
manner implied that happenings to the younger 
Morrison were so many that one more could 
make but little difference to him or to the 
public. 

“ He ’s a lucky dog, that same Wendell Mor- 
rison is,” the friend proceeded to say. “Bet- 
ter lucky than rich, they say ; but, then, Morri- 
son is both lucky and rich. It beats all how 
plums fall in some people’s hands ! They say 
Crickenbaum, the painter, is making a new sign 
down at his shop, and it reads : ‘ Tracy & Mor- 
rison, Attorneys at Law.’ ‘ How is that lor 
high ?’” 

“Who told you?” Thaddeus asked, taking up 
his pencil to write the item of news for the 
Banner ; but he dared not lift his eyes to his 
informant lest they should betray his feeling, 
and could not ask any further particulars. He 
trembled with sudden but suppressed emotion. 
It was the very place he coveted. He was glad 
his friend left the office at once, before he dis- 
closed his distress. He bowed his head on his 
desk, and wished he had never been born. Had 
the tide set in against him? Was he to be 
lifted and carried whither he would not ? Were 
breakers ahead ? 


FOREWARNED. 


47 


If Morrison was to be J-udge Tracy’s law 
partner, it was a foregone conclusion that he 
would be a privileged caller at the judge’s 
home, and that Josie would be thrown into his 
company very, very often. He feared Morri- 
son there. Amid these unpleasant reflections 
the door opened quietly, and an employee of the 
Gazette entered timidly. 

“How are you, Reynolds?” said Thaddeus, 
rising, and extending a hand in welcome. 

“First rate,” Reynolds replied, grasping 
Tliad’s hand heartily. “ You were not expect- 
ing me , were you ?” 

“ Hardly ; but you are welcome, nevertheless. 
How is the Gazette prospering?” 

“All right. But, say!” and Reynolds put 
his chair down close beside Thad’s, “ you 
need n’t be afraid of the Gazette. That can do 
you no harm ; but you ’d better look out for 
your friends /” 

“Explain.” 

“Can I trust you?” said Reynolds, drawing 
his chair still closer to Thad. “ You won’t give 
me away?” 

“Reynolds, you have seen me tried. Did I 
flinch ? My friendship for you, my love for 
justice, and my high regard for truth, are your 
guarantee that what you commit to my keeping 
is safe, whether it be much or little.” 


4 8 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“Of course, I know that, or I would not be 
here. What I say I say on Friendship, Love, 
and Truth.” 

Then he told him of the compact made the 
night Wendell and his associates met at the 
Big-tree Corner, and planned his defeat. He 
overheard the conversation as he sat in an open 
window just above them, seeking relief from a 
severe nervous headache. 

“I ought to have come sooner,” he said, in 
conclusion; “but I hated to, seeing I am work- 
ing for the Gazette , and the two offices are not 
on very good terms.” 

“I thank you very sincerely, Reynolds; and 
do not think for one minute that I am not the 
friend of every one in the Gazette office, no 
matter how bitter Mr. Monmoskin may be to- 
ward me — especially of such as you.” 

As Reynolds passed out, Seth Russell slipped 
in, and, as the door closed behind the departing 
caller, he said : 

“ Beware, my friend ! beware ! Take the 
advice of an old man, and trust not appearances! 
Where love is, you are safe. Where truth abides, 
you are secure. Trust only those who love in 
truth and in deed ” 

“That is good advice, I am sure, Mr. Russell; 
but can you not be a little more explicit?” 

“I was coming home from watching by the 


FOREWARNED. 


49 


sick last night at midnight, and, as I passed the 
Big-tree Corner, I heard words that made me 
shudder. You have enemies, my friend, where 
you least suspect it. Our lawmaker is a law- 
breaker. Beware ! Remember, Seth Russell 
hath warned you ! When you are in danger, 
do not call the police ! ' A mountain in Pal- 
estine has more help for you than they ! 
Good-bye !” 


V. 


ONE DEGREE HIGHER. 

O IT’S you, is it?” 

Miss Josie answered the bell herself ; 
for she was expecting Thaddeus, as it was his 
evening and his hour, and she delighted him 
always by meeting him at the door with a hearty 
welcome. 

“ Put your hat there, and your coat also,” she 
continued, pointing to the hall-tree. “ I thought 
you would n’t know !” 

“Yes, I know,” he replied, smiling at the ab- 
surd suggestion that he was a stranger there. 

They passed into the parlor, and were seated, 
when Thad noticed that Judge Tracy was read- 
ing the evening paper in the back parlor. 

Usually he was glad to find the judge at 
home, and generally excused himself from Josie 
for a few minutes while he chatted with her 
father about business and politics. But that 
evening he felt a constraint he had not known 
before in the judge’s presence, and, instead of 
going to greet him, he drew a chair to the fire- 
place, looked steadily into the glowing grate, 
and drifted off into a reverie that was protracted 
50 


ONE DEGREE HIGHER . 


51 


and unbroken, until Josie said, with arching 
brows and a mischievous smile : 

“Well, yes — if I must say it.” 

“Excuse me!” Thad said, startled into con- 
sciousness of his surroundings. “I fear I did 
not leave business at the door, as I should have 
done. But then, Josie, I have been so indulged 
in your home, and your father has been so kind 
to me that I have learned to take privileges here 
that I would not dare to grant myself elsewhere. 
And did you know, Josie, that I came down to- 
night intending to lay my whole heart open to 
you — my business heart, I mean,” blushing 
slightly, as he added the modifying phrase. 

“Thank you — for your confidence in — my 
business tact;” and an answering color height- 
ened her beauty. “ The daily grows, I see.” 

“ Beg pardon !” 

“ The daily grows more interesting. How do 
you think of so much to say — so much that is 
really interesting?” 

“ The ‘ much to say’ is easy enough. It is the 
‘what to say’ that worries one. There are 
many items of local interest that come to us as 
rumors, and which we would be glad to print, 
if true; but, before we can verify them, the day 
is gone, and by the next day what was ‘news’ 
becomes an old story.” 

At this juncture, Judge Tracy put down his 


52 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


paper, came into the parlor, and greeted Thad- 
deus cordially. Standing in the middle of the 
floor, putting his glasses into their case, he said : 

“I promised to meet Morrison at our office 
a little after eight o’clock, and as it is nearly 
that time now, I must go. I am sorry I can 
not stay and talk over matters and things a little. 
The daily still flourishes, of course?” 

“Yes, sir, thank you. I am sorry you 
must go.” 

“Something particular?” 

“No, sir, nothing of importance.” 

Thaddeus was indeed sorry that Judge Tracy 
was going to his office — to meet Morrison; for 
that confirmed the rumor that Morrison had 
been admitted to partnership, and it would 
henceforth be “Tracy & Morrison.” 

And, later, might there not appear in his own 
paper a notice headed “ Morrison — Tracy,” 
and which should read like this : 

“Married — At the residence of the bride’s 
father, Judge Tracy, Mr. Wendell 
Morrison and Miss Josephine Tracy, 
all of Brambleville. Rev. Archibald 
Outwright officiating.” 

Thaddeus saw that notice in solid nonpareil 
type, under the daily announcement of mar- 
riages, in his paper of some future date, as 
clearly and as exactly as the reader of any no- 


ONE DEGREE HIGHER . 


53 


tice sees the printed letters when the paper is 
in his hand. 

What if that notice should be handed him 
the last minute before going to press, when all 
were busy correcting galleys, making up forms, 
or spreading the paper, so that he would have 
to set the type himself, as he often did for a 
belated item ! 

How would his voice sound? Would it be 
steady and clear, or uncertain and husky, as he 
called out to the foreman : 

“ Kill that four-line ‘ Cow for Sale ’ to make 
room for this marriage notice ; for it must ap- 
pear to-day, if ever!” 

He wondered if the boys would notice how 
pale his face was — how his hands trembled — or 
guess why he went from the press-room to his 
desk, and did not wait to get the first paper 
that came off the press, as he had always done. 

As he meditated on these things, he rocked 
furiously before the sputtering grate-fire, un- 
mindful that Judge Tracy had gone, and that 
Josie sat near him, shading her face from the 
firelight by the evening paper her father had 
left in her lap, patiently waiting for her guest 
to come back from his wandering. He rocked 
and rocked, and followed himself through a 
dreary life, repeating over and over “ the sad- 
dest words of tongue or pen,” of which old Seth 
5 


54 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


Russell had reminded him that day he and Josie 
talked at her father’s gate, until he stood at his 
own grave. 

Slowly and still more slowly the chair 
swayed on its noiseless rockers as Thaddeus 
approached the final scene, and it stood still as 
he heard the minister say, “Earth to earth, dust 
to dust, ashes to ashes,” and heard the drop- 
ping of the handful of dirt that the sexton threw 
down upon his coffin ! Sighing heavily, he 
aroused from his dreaming, and, looking up 
with confusion and sincere regret, said earnestly : 

“Miss Josie ! I beg your pardon for such 
rudeness. It is too much! Here a second time 
I have utterly forgotten your presence, and have 
gone chasing after wild thoughts of my brain. 
Can you forgive me a second time?” 

“ Do not mention it ! No apologies are 
needed ; for I, too, was ‘ lost in thought,’ and for 
that reason have not felt neglected. So we are 
even. Now let us both begin at the beginning. 
Shall we?” 

“On one condition,” Thaddeus exclaimed, 
suddenly seized with a determination to risk 
everything on a bold movement. 

“And what is the condition?” 

“ That we tell each other of what we were 
dreaming !” 

“ O no ; I can not agree to that !” 


ONE DEGREE HIGHER. 


55 


“ Well, then,” said Thaddeus, reassured by 
her blushes and her refusal to tell, “ let us each 
hope that what the other saw in our wide-awake 
dreams may never come to pass!” 

“ O no, not that ! I do not want any such 
ruthless destruction of my castles. My reverie 
was of such bright and happy things ! Were n’t 
yours ?” 

“ Far from it ! I dreamed of buried desires, 
of wrecked hopes, of a dismal ending to a beau- 
iul day-dawn.” 

“ Poor fellow! What horrid happenings have 
set your thoughts awry like that? Where are 
all the bright views of the future you laid belore 
me just a few nights ago? 

Thaddeus smiled feebly, tried to appear cheer- 
ful and to be brave, and said : 

“ Illusions !” 

“ But seriously, Thad, I am afraid the daily 
is taxing you too much. You are losing your 
buoyancy of spirit. Whatever profit you make 
will prove dear gain obtained at that cost.” 

“Can you read secret thoughts and discover 
hidden causes? You are a discerner of spirits 
surely ; for the daily does worry me, but not 
half as much as other things.” 

“What ‘other things?’ May I know?” 

Her tone and manner were sincerely sympa- 
thetic. 


56 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“I would like to tell you, and yet I do not 
wish to burden you with personal matters. ” 

“What other matters would interest me half 
as much? If you can trust me, I shall certainly 
be glad to share your burden. Will not two 
make the burden half as much ?” 

“You are very kind. Josie, you have helped 
me more than I can tell, and at more times than 
you know, by your sympathetic words and very 
charming manner. Trust you? I can trust 
you with anything — everything ; but I do dis- 
like to worry you with so much of my personal 
affairs.” 

“It is no worry, Thad. Not to tell me would 
worry me.” 

“Well, it is just this: I have discovered that 
I have secret enemies. I mean those who are 
devoted friends in my presence, but relentless 
foes when I am not around. A knowledge of 
the injury they can do me when masquerading 
as my Iriends, or when working for the party — 
to let them tell it, and in such a way that I 
can not defend myself — sets me wild at times.” 

“Perhaps your fears are groundless. Some 
one may have deceived you just to annoy you.” 

“No, that can not be. I have already lost 
both money and influence through their secret 
machinations. I know who they are, but dare 
not open my mouth ; for I could not convey to 


ONE DEGREE HIGHER. 


57 


others the proofs I have, and my assertion would 
remain unsupported by a single fact.” 

“Could you not get father to help you? He 
has never refused you yet.” 

“That is true, but here he can not help; 
that is, I can not lay the case before him.” 

“But will you trust me with the facts? I 
will not demand proof. I will take your bare 
assertion ; for I know, Thad, your word is 
truth.” 

“Yes, Josie, I can trust you, but I can not 
trust myself in this case. I am afraid if I 
should commence to tell you, I would go too 
far, and would say things I might regret after it 
was too late.” 

“Then I can not help you; but really, you 
do not do yourself justice. But I will not urge 
you. When you think you can with safety to 
yourself, let me help you carry your secret. 
But, come, let us have a song ! Perhaps we 
can sing you into a happier frame of mind. 
Songs cure the blues, Thad.” 

“Do not say ‘the blues,’ Josie. I hope I am 
too much a man to succumb to ‘ the blues.’ ” 

“What shall I say, then? Melancholy?” 

“No, not ‘melancholy.’ Let it drop. What 
shall we sing?” 

He went to the piano, and searched through 
the music for their favorite songs. By a strong 


53 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


effort he threw off his sadness, and was himself 
again in appearance and manner. 

With heartiness and with expression they 
sang together, rendering the duet as faultlessly 
as they would had they been singing for an 
audience of critics ; but their hearts were not 
in the work, nor did they heed the words their 
lips uttered. 

When the song w r as done, Josie softly touched 
the keys, playing nothing but broken strains of 
familiar tunes. Thaddeus stood at the end of 
the piano, apparently studying the score ot the 
music before him, but really thinking not once 
of the notes, nor of the sentiment of the song. 

“Miss Josie, I am no stranger to you. We 
have been schoolmates ; and you know what I 
am now, and what I hope to be, do n’t you?” 

“Yes, I think I do,” without looking up. 

“You have encouraged me, and helped me, 
and sympathized with me, especially since I took 
the Banner office.” 

“Had to,” she said, mischievously, glancing 
up ; but his eyes did not meet hers ; “ for papa 
had your note, and wanted you to prosper until 
that was paid, if no longer.” 

“ But the note is paid. And has your inter- 
est in me and the office ceased with the interest 
on the note?” 

This time he looked at her; but she was 


ONE DEGREE HIGHER. 


59 


busy with the piano-keys, and did not see his 
glance, though she smiled at his pleasantry. 

“It is hard to quit caring for what you have 
cared for so long,” she said ; “ that is, right off. 
Besides, I did not know the note was canceled.” 

“It is. Paid the last cent this week.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me? Here I have 
been feeling an interest in you even to-night.” 

“ Josie, I have cared for you longer than that 
note has been running. For years, Josie, for 
years I have cared for you. Josie, I love you. 
I can not help it. I do not want to help it. 
Must I quit?” 

He closed the music-book with a slam, turned 
from the piano, walked across the floor, returned, 
% and stood at her side, waiting her reply ; for she 
still thrummed the keys thoughtlessly, but with- 
out evoking a single discord. His face burned, 
and the blood struggled through every swelling 
vein ; for his heart beat violently as he waited 
for his late at her hands. Presently she said, 
shyly : 

“You need n’t quit, right off.” 

“Do not say that, Josie. Say I need not 
quit, ever.” 

“On one condition,” she said, letting her 
hands fall into her lap, and looking up at him 
lovingly. 

“And that? But I grant it before you tell 


6o 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


me. I grant any condition you may name!” he 
cried eagerly, taking her hand in his. 

“ That you tell me truly, truly , all you thought 
and feared to-night when you dreamed before 
the grate awhile ago.” 

“I will. And then?” 

“You say.” 

“And then, may I love you always, always , 
as I do now?” 

“Yes.” 

“And, Josie — my own true, true love — my 
very life — will you give me a corner in your 
heart for my very own, and mine only?” 

“Yes, dear; not one, but four corners.” 

“And the center?” 

“ The center, too !” 

“And you truly, truly want me to tell you 
what I was thinking about when I came?” 

“ Truly, truly ! Let me know your very 
heart !” 

Then he told her all he knew of Morrison’s 
schemes against him, not stopping until he had 
poured into her willing ears all his longing to 
make for himself a name and a place, and to be 
found worthy to be associated with her father in 
the practice of law. 

Then she said : 

“ I have not heard of the partnership, except 
that papa has said he had been urged to take 


ONE DEGREE HIGHER. 


61 


Morrison into business. But Thad, dear, I am 
nearer to papa than any law partner can ever 
be. Trust me !” 

Thaddeus went home happy. His losses 
were trifles compared with his gains. 

What if Morrison was scheming against him, 
and planning his overthrow? One heart, at 
least, never could be influenced by his sophistry 
or embittered by his malice. 

What if Judge Tracy had consented to a 
partnership with the brilliant young lawyer? 
The judge’s daughter had consented to a part- 
nership with the hard-working young editor, 
and that was enough. 

What if the Review had dropped him, since 
Miss Josie had admitted him to her heart! 

The Daily Banner , the next day, contained 
two items which Thaddeus read in the first 
copy pulled from the press without so much as 
a tremor of fear or a tinge of bitterness, though 
he had written them the day before in anguish 
of soul. 

Indeed, the sunshine in his heart could never 
be darkened by any cloud that might arise in 
the newspaper or political sky. 

“Please, and can Seth have a fresh paper?” 

“ Indeed you can, Mr. Russell. Good paper 
to-day, too.” 

“ I see it is by your eye. Old Seth can read 


62 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


eyes, Thaddeus. You are safe so long as that 
light shines there. Let love rule!” 

“What an odd fellow he is!” Thad said, as 
the door closed behind him. 

But Wendell Morrison had plans other than 
those that pertained to law and politics. At 
least he knew that political prospects are al- 
ways greatly enhanced by a surplus of finance. 
His fortune as an heir of his father’s estate 
would be ample ; but then Miss Josie, the only 
child of Judge Tracy, would inherit a far greater 
amount. He might manage to unite the two 
fortunes. 

And then — “Zounds!” he exclaimed as he 
thought of it ; “ if I could supplant Thad in her 
heart, how sweet would be my revenge on him !” 

So he determined to leave no work undone 
that would further his designs. 


YI. 

TWO ODD FELLOWS. 


TD EV. ARCHIBALD OUTWRIGHT was a 
popular preacher ; but he was far from 
being an ideal minister in personal appearance, 
his garb was so queer. 

He wore a broad-brim soft hat, which shaded 
a face that would be taken for that of a pros- 
perous and intelligent German farmer ; for it 
was round, ruddy, running over with ripples 
of good-humor, and a delight to all his ac- 
quaintances. 

He wore the conventional black of the clergy ; 
but though his garments were cut so differently, 
they were made to fit so perfectly that one lost 
sight of them in considering the person of the 
preacher. Though he weighed very nearly 
three hundred pounds, he walked along the 
street so briskly, and with such a light step, 
that one was hardly aware of his approach until 
greeted by his cheery “ good-morning !” He 
carried a cane; but its ferrule was rubber-tipped, 
and, when it touched the pavement, bounded 
back noiselessly, as if it knew better than to 
break in upon the preacher’s meditations, or to 
attract attention from him. 


63 


64 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


His bright eyes snapped constantly with in- 
nocent mirthfulness, and his memory was such 
that he greeted nearly every one by name, even 
if he did not pause for further salutation. Mr. 
Outwright was a welcome caller everywhere — 
as welcome as a ray of sunshine when clouds 
are thickest, or a breath of cool air when the 
sun is hottest ; for he was both sunshine and 
life to every one. He knew quite as well when 
to leave as when to 'call; what to keep to him- 
self, and what to spread before his friends. A 
rare man was Mr. Outwright ! 

Thaddeus was bending over his table, writing 
rapidly, much absorbed in his subject, when the 
Rev. Archibald Outwright entered the office. 
He paused in the middle of the floor, waiting 
for an interval of silence in the scratch, scratch, 
whipity, whipity, whish, whir, whir, whir-r-r, 
dot, dash, wiglety-wig of the pen, as it swept 
across the paper, recording swiftly and unerr- 
ingly the glowing thoughts of the young editor. 

“My dear Mr. Outwright!” Thaddeus ex- 
claimed, looking up for an instant, having made 
on the paper a double loop with his pen, put- 
ting two accent marks at the middle, as if to 
say, “I stop here, but have more to say, and 
will write it on occasion.” 

“ I hope I do not intrude !” 

“ By no means. I auqalways glad to see you.” 


TWO ODD FELLOWS. 


65 


“ I thought differently the past ten minutes 
while I waited in your majesty’s presence — 
waiting for a sign that I might approach nearer 
than the middle of the floor ! How do you act 
when you are not glad to see a caller?” 

“O! I just say, ‘I will attend to you in a 
minute!’ ” 

“Then there are fellows that you can sift 
clean in a minute, eh?” 

“Yes; either sift or shift.” 

“Which would you rather do?” 

“ Sift, of course. An editor is always look- 
ing for wheat, pure wheat, and looking for it 
everywhere. Sometimes he sifts a good editorial 
from a caller who never suspects why the editor 
takes such an interest in his affairs. By study- 
ing individuals, the editor comes to know peo- 
ple, communities, States, nations.” 

“ But where do you put eccentric folks — those 
persons who are so unlike other people ; are so 
seldom seen that you do not know where to put 
them?” 

“ O, I have a place for all such. I label each 
one ‘ an odd fellow,’ and stow him away in my 
mind in a corner reserved for just such as 
they.” 

“A motley group you have in that corner, I 
am sure!” 

“ Sure enough ; and yet so alike that I un- 


66 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


hesitatingly put them all in the same corner of 
my mind.” 

“ Cranks, every one of them !” 

“Granted! And yet cranks are good for 
something — indeed, good for much.” 

“ Some are, I know. The grindstone crank 
is good when you have an ax to sharpen !” 

“And the windlass crank, when you want to 
draw water Irom a deep well,” Thad replied. 

“But say, Mr. Editor, could you give me a 
list of your odd fellows? I should like to study 
some of them.” 

“ Not a list, Mr. Outwright. That would 
hardly be fair; but I can tell you one I have 
put in my corner.” 

“Well?” 

“Yourself!” 

“Indeed! Thanks! But why — ” 

“Now, do not be offended. I think no higher 
compliment can be paid one than to call him an 
odd fellow. The thumb on your hand is an odd 
fellow. No one is with him — he stands alone. 
But from time to time, as the business of life 
goes on, every other finger finds its power for 
usefulness greatly increased by association with 
the thumb — the odd fellow that stands on a line 
different from all the other digits.” 

“But how does that apply to me?” 

“First, as to your dress. You do not keep 


TWO ODD FELLOWS. 


67 


in line with other men of your calling. They 
wear tall hats ; you wear a low one. They ap- 
pear in clerical garb always and everywhere ; 
you dress to suit your convenience and taste. 
They go with the people ; but when the people 
get up on a line with you, the next thing we 
see, you are away ahead, beckoning them to come 
and — ” 

“ Hold ! Spare me ! I am not quite a saint — 
not quite a Paul or a Peter.” 

“For which I am truly grateful. I do not 
believe the Creator exhausted the variety of 
good and great men when he set Paul and Peter 
adrift in the world. But, after all, they were 
odd fellows. Had they not been odd, had they 
not stood out alone and for their convictions, 
they would not have been known beyond their 
time or their native land, and the world would 
not be what it is to-day ; for their preaching — ” 

“Then you are odd,” interrupted the preacher. 
“So please step into your own little corner with 
the rest of your odd fellows ; for what can be 
odder than an editor turning lecturer on theol- 
ogy and Biblical history?” 

“What can be odder,” retorted the editor, 
“than a gray-liaired preacher sitting at the feet 
of a country-town editor?” 

“I assure you the minister could do much 
>> 


worse. 


68 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“Thanks! But you are the only minister I 
dared unbosom myself to. Usually they are so 
iar away, but you are right near me.” 

“I try to get near every one,” the preacher 
replied. 

“So you do!” Thaddeus assented, earnestly. 

“By the way, I must not forget my errand 
here to-day. There ’s a case of real destitution 
in the Fourth Ward, which I stumbled on yester- 
day, that needs immediate help.” 

“ Tell me about it,” the editor said, giving 
close and careful attention to what the minister 
said. 

“A mother and three children and a husband 
constitute the family. The children have just 
passed the crises in typhoid fever.” 

“And the father?” queried Thaddeus. 

“Yes,” said the minister, with a sigh; “you 
guess it, I see. I wish it was otherwise, but it 
is n’t. He drinks, and that tells the story.” 

“Shall I mention it in the paper?” 

“ If you will, in a general way ; but do not 
give the particulars. Say that food or clothing, 
left at the parsonage, will be carefully distributed 
among the needy ; and that worthy persons may 
learn particulars by applying to me.” 

“Perhaps you would better leave name and 
address here too, so I may speak advisedly to 
any who may ask me about it.” 


TWO ODD FELLOWS. 


69 


“Certainly. It is the Tingleman family, on 
Chestnut Street, two doors beyond the railway.” 

“You want these to go in to-morrow, I sup- 
pose,” picking up the paper on which the min- 
ister had written notices of special services. 

“If you please. Well, odd fellow, good-bye! 
and excuse me for intruding.” 

“Good-bye, odd fellow! I shall not excuse 
you if you do not intrude just this way pretty 
often. Now, mind that!” 

“I am glad I came, and will come again; 
for I have gathered material for a first-rate 
sermon.” 

“And I for at least three good editorials.” 

“Good!” 

“Come again!” 

The minister went away, thanking a kind 
Providence that had blessed Brambleville with 
such an editor as that. The editor resumed his 
work, after meditating a few minutes on the de- 
light of having for a friend so genial a preacher 
as the Rev. Mr. Outwright. 

At nine o’clock that night, Thaddeus stood 
at the door of the Tingleman home, knocking 
timidly, and wondering how he should intro- 
duce himself ; for he had never before gone 
alone on such an errand, and he felt embar- 
rassed by his ignorance of proper procedure, 

“Come in,” said a mild-voiced old lady, who 
6 


70 


AN ODD FELLOW . 


opened the door, and stepped aside for the caller 
to pass into the room. She manifested no sur- 
prise at seeing a stranger, and showed no tim- 
idity in admitting him. 

Thaddeus stood awkwardly at the door, which 
she closed behind him, while she crossed the 
room to get a chair, and place it before the lit- 
tle square stove that was doing its best to heat 
the house, fed by fuel of mixed wood and soft 
coal, with an occasional handful of corncobs. 
Thaddeus took the offered chair, put the basket 
he had brought on the floor beside him, and de- 
posited thereon his hat. Presently he unbut- 
toned his great coat, ran his hand around his 
collar, pulling it away from his neck ; for he 
was stifled by the impure air of the room, and 
was sure he was breathing poison at every in- 
spiration. 

“ I have brought you a few little things that 
may please the children,” he said, handing the 
basket to the old lady, who had stood by the 
stove a few minutes, silently looking at the ed- 
itor. “How are the children now?” 

“They is doin’ well now; but their mammy 
is down now, an’ their pappy is cornin’ down, 
tew, ’pears like; fur he’s feelin’ awful downsey.” 

A moan startled Thaddeus, for it seemed to 
be right at his elbow. Looking around, he dis- 
covered that his chair almost touched the foot- 


TWO ODD FELLOWS. 


71 


board of a bedstead, until then unnoticed by 
him in the very dim light of the room. The 
moan was followed by a cough, a gasp, and a 
distressing but apparently vain effort to clear 
the throat, and then came another moan and a 
gasp. 

He sprang to his feet, waited a second in in- 
decision, and then advanced to the head of the 
bed, finding Mrs. Tingleman leaning over its 
edge, face downward, struggling for breath, and 
choking with the obstruction in her throat. 

With one hand he held her head, and with 
the other gave her his own handkerchief, which 
he took out of his overcoat-pocket ; lor she was 
vainly feeling around over the bed for hers. 

“Doctor?” she said, faintly and inquiringly, 
as Thaddeus helped her back on the pillow, 
after the exhausting contest with her foe. 

“No, not the doctor, Mrs. Tingleman; but a 
friend. What can I do for you?” 

“Nothing,” she answered feebly, and lay 
there gasping for breath, almost dying from 
sheer exhaustion. 

“Wuz she stranglin’?” asked the old lady, 
returning from emptying the basket of its con- 
tents. “Poor thing!” she added, pityingly, 
bending over the bed, and touching Mrs. Tingle- 
man’s forehead with her bony but mercy-tipped 
fingers. 


72 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“Yes; but I helped her a little, and I guess 
she will rest now awhile.” 

“She will sleep a little now — alius duz.” 

“Where is Mr. Tingleman?” 

“At the yard. Watchman, ye know, at the 
lumber-yard.” 

“I see! How is he now?” Thaddeus asked, 
moving away from the bed again. 

“’Bout drinkin’?” 

“Yes; does he keep straight since his wife 
is sick?” 

“He’s better ’n he wuz. I hain’t seed him 
tech it fur nigh onto a week.” 

“That’s good. But who will stay with you 
here to-night. Mrs. Tingleman is very sick.” 

“La! I know she ’s sick. Nobody’ll stay 
but me. Ther’ ’s nobody tu stay.” 

“Would you mind having me here? Could 
I help any, if I staid?” 

“You ?” 

“Yes ; I would like to try to help you, if you 
will let me.” 

“I ’d be monstr’us glad tu hev ye ; but ’pears 
like ye do n’t mean it. I hain’t seed a bed, in 
no proper shape, fur more ’n a month. Ef ye 
jist set here, and call me whin needed, I ’d sleep 
something like. But could ye?” 

“O yes, I can, and I will ; but where will you 
sleep ?” 


TWO ODD FELLOWS. 


73 


“Right in this here cheer. I c’u’d sleep 
standin’, I reckon, if she wuz off my mine 
onc’t.” 

“Rest easy about her. I will watch her very 
carefully, a little while any way. You may go 
to sleep any time.” 

“Who sent ye here any how?” 

“Mr. Outwright, the minister.” 

“An’ be ye a servunt uv his ’n?” 

“Yes,” said Thaddeus, smiling at the ques- 
tion. “I work for him part of the time.” 

“He ’s bin here heaps o’ times. His wumun 
wuz pow’ful kine tu the chil’un. They ’re in 
the bed thar’ with the’r mammy.” 

“That ought not to be!” Thaddeus said, 
quickly ; but remembering their destitution, he 
checked himself, and said, “ Well, you go to 
sleep now, aunty, and I will see to everything.” 

“Who tol’ ye I wuz called aunty? Ev’y- 
body calls me thet.” 

“O, I guessed it !” 

“Dear, dear! it seems gude to sleep with 
both eyes shet onc’t again.” 

The aunty sank back in the little rocker, and 
was asleep in a minute ; and Thaddeus was 
virtually alone, in the house of a stranger, 
keeping watch by the bed of a dying woman ! 

There was nothing for him to do but to sit 
there and wait for the oft-recurring struggles 


74 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


with the tenacious cough. She seemed hardly 
conscious at any time, and most of the time 
was certainly wholly unconscious. 

Thaddeus knew his mother had gone to bed 
and to sleep, and would not miss him until she 
went to call him to breakfast ; but he meant to 
be home before that time. 

Night was giving place to the dawn of day 
when he called up the aunty, and stole noise- 
lessly out of the house, and hurried home. 

Though the hour was so early, it was not 
too early for Seth Russell to be out, old and 
presumably feeble as he was ; for he intercepted 
Thaddeus at a street-crossing, his merry eyes 
twinkling like stars, his soft voice sounding like 
a lute, while his benign countenance radiated 
the kindliness ot his kind soul. 

“What errand of mercy takes you out in 
this wee hour?” he asked of Thaddeus. 

“ I might answer by asking you the same 
question,” Thaddeus replied, grasping heartily 
the extended hand of his friend. 

“I will tell you if you will answer me this: 
How do you suppose I know you are a born 
writer?” 

“Indeed, I can not tell,” Thaddeus said, with 
a smile, and a glow of pleasure at the implied 
compliment. 


TWO ODD FELLOWS. 


75 


“Because you have such good ears for hold- 
ing the pen.” 

Thaddeus stood watching the fast-retreating 
figure of Seth, and finally burst out laughing at 
his joke, and hastened homeward, refreshed in 
mind by that little pleasantry at such an unex- 
pected hour. 

Not only Seth Russell had noted Thad’s de- 
parture from Tingleman’s house, but Billy Barn- 
well, the chief of police, had also noted it ; and 
as every movement of the young editor was 
something for him to report to Wendell Morri- 
son, he remembered that Tingleman had an un- 
savory reputation in the town, and was sus- 
pected of having been a hard case before he 
came to Brambleville. 

Thaddeus left his handkerchief with Mrs. 
Tingleman ; for he did not care to take it again 
after her use of it. It was marked with his 
name ; but it did not occur to Thaddeus that 
it could ever come up as evidence against his 
good name. But it did. 


YII. 


IN THE TOILS. 



UT Thaddeus did not need to keep up his 


(J — ' vigils at Tingleman’s home, though he was 
a frequent caller there, having become deeply 
interested in the case. His mother and some 
of her lady friends relieved Thaddeus of the 
immediate care of Mrs. Tingletnan. 

Mrs. Tracy and Miss Josie were enlisted in 
the behalf of the poor family, and were assid- 
uous in their attention. One afternoon they 
called just as Tingleman was leaving for work. 
Their elegant wraps, the sparkling of the dia- 
mond pins they wore in their scarfs, and the 
richness of all their attire, attracted his atten- 
tion, and aroused in him a passion that had a 
long time been dormant. Ever since he had a 
wife, Tingleman had been an honest man in 
practice ; for her influence had kept in subjec- 
tion his true nature. 

“ Why should they have all that superfluous 
wealth, and I and mine in want?” he asked 
himself that night. “ They would not feel the 
loss of their diamonds, and what a fortune they 
would be to me ! What comforts I could buy 
my wife !” The thought grew upon him, and he 


IN THE TOILS. 


77 


decided to have those diamonds that very night. 
His wife would never know ! 

Thaddeus called to see Miss Josie, and was 
beguiled into staying until the clock in the 
church-steeple struck eleven. Wendell Morrison 
was there, too ; but he was closeted with Judge 
Tracy, discussing an important case in hand, 
and had not left when Thaddeus quietly with- 
drew. 

Tingleman made a hurried visit to Judge 
Tracy’s house in the early evening to take ob- 
servations, and was almost caught by Morrison 
as he came up the walk ; but quickly hiding 
behind an evergreen, he saw Morrison enter, 
and then returned to the lumber-yard in time 
to register at the watchman’s post. At eleven 
o’clock he came back, and seeing Thaddeus 
leave, concluded the way was clear, and waited 
until all should become quiet in the house. 

When he saw the light flash out of Miss 
Josie’s window, and heard her close the shutters 
of her bedroom window, careless as to the noise 
she made, he boldly advanced to the parlor win- 
dows, which opened on the porch, reckoning 
that what noise he made there could not be dis- 
tinguished from the noise she was making above. 

He had masked his face by tying over it a 
handkerchief — the very handkerchief that Thad- 
deus had left with Mrs. Tingleman the night he 


78 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


first called there. Who could have guessed that 
an act of kindness could be so used as was 
Thaddeus’s wholly unselfish ministering to the 
need of that afflicted mother and wile? 

Tingleman opened the shutters, slipped into 
the parlor, leaving the window up to insure an 
exit if he should be hurried in his leaving, and 
pulled down the inside blind to hide his move- 
ments from outside observation. 

Judge Tracy, in his study, heard the noise in 
the parlor, but supposed it was his daughter pre- 
paring to retire. 

In her room above, Josie heard the noise 
below, but knowing that her lather was down 
there, supposed it was he closing the shutters 
before he came up-stairs, forgetting that they 
had been closed early m the evening. She 
forthwith fell asleep, and dreamed sweetly of fu- 
ture events, not one of which gave her a hint of 
what the future really held in store for her. 

Tingleman was motionless at the window for 
several minutes, straining his ears to catch any 
danger-signal from any part of the house. 

He reckoned the valuables he sought were 
up-stairs, but he determined first to make a 
hasty examination of the down-stairs apart- 
ments. The information gained thereby would 
stand him in hand in future operations. 

He softly crossed the floor, gently opened the 


IN THE TOILS . 


79 


door, and slipped into the hall, his shoeless feet 
making not a sound on the rich carpeting. 

A light flickered under the door at the farther 
end of the hall, where Judge Tracy and Mor- 
rison were silently reading legal papers ; but 
after a moment’s hesitation, Tingleman con- 
cluded it was light from a grate in an office or 
the library. He listened. Not a sound from 
the room ! 

He struck a match, and lighted a point of gas 
in the burner overhead. The match snapped 
viciously, and sounded like a small firecracker, 
and he was lor a moment alarmed ; but when no 
sound of life followed the snap, he grew bold, 
and moved so!tly toward the door, beyond which 
the two men were reading. 

When Judge Tracy heard the window-shutter 
open, he thought it was Josie, and quietly read 
on. Nevertheless his ears were alert ; for a 
vague fear seized upon him, and he heard the 
match snap. 

Morrison heard the window-shutter open, and 
thought it queer ; for he remembered they were 
closed when he came, and the judge had said 
Thaddeus was in the parlor. Though apparently 
reading, he was listening, and he heard the 
match snap in the hall. 

Both looked up at the same instant, and to- 
gether turned their eyes toward the door, listen- 


8o 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


ing breathlessly, and found their fears confirmed 
by the streak of light that lay just under the 
door, out in the hall. 

Both men sprang from their chairs, and both 
made signs for the other not to speak. 

Morrison took his place against the wall, so 
the least opening of the door would reveal the 
intruder to him at once. 

Judge Tracy stood behind the door, facing 
Morrison, his hand on the door-knob, ready to 
fling it open at first alarm. 

Tingleman, unsuspecting the presence of the 
two men, advanced cautiously, and pushed open 
the door boldly. 

“Villain!” muttered Morrison, springing for- 
ward, and grasping at the neck of Tingleman. 

Though surprised, Tingleman did not run, 
but dealt Morrison a heavy blow that staggered 
him a second. 

“Scoundrel!” called Judge Tracy, grabbing 
at Tingleman from behind the door. 

Seeing he was overmatched, Tingleman 
turned to flee, but not before Morrison returned 
to the attack, and sought to close with him in a 
catch-as-catch-can wrestling match. Tingleman 
nimbly evaded the embrace ; but Morrison caught 
the handkerchief off his head as he fled, and so 
he escaped through the parlor window, as he 
had come in. 


IN THE TOILS. 


81 


Cries of alarm and screams from above-stairs 
told the men that Mrs. Tracy and Miss Josie 
had been awakened by the brief struggle, and 
were thoroughly frightened. 

“ Be quiet, dear! be quiet, Josie! We are all 
right. It was a burglar, but he has gone now.” 

In a very few minutes both ladies were at the 
head of the stairs, in their wrappers, listening to 
the story of the attack and escape of the thief. 

“Papa,” called Josie anxiously, “do have 
Mr. Morrison stay until morning. The burglar 
might come back again !” 

“Hardly to-night, my dear.” 

“ But I am afraid!” 

“Yes, have him stay,” pleaded Mrs. Tracy. 
“ He might come back and bring help.” 

“ Foolish women!” said Judge Tracy. 

“ You would just as soon, would n’t you, Mr. 
Morrison?” Miss Josie added. 

“ Yes, indeed ; I will find pleasure in staying, 
if it will relieve your fears.” 

“ I scolded Thad for staying so late to-night,” 
Josie said, in an undertone to her mother, while 
the men were talking below ; “ but I wish now 
he hadn’t gone so soon.” And then she called 
down again: “You will stay, won’t you, Mr. 
Morrison.” 

“ Yes, indeed,” he said, quickly. 

The ladies returned to their rooms, not to 


82 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


sleep, but to talk over and over the exciting 
episode. 

“ I shall keep the handkerchief as a trophy 
of this affair,” Morrison said, as he examined it 
carefully in the light of the office lamp, when 
he and Judge Tracy returned there, after se- 
curely fastening the window that had been 
opened. 

It was large and of soft texture, — almost 
silken, so fine w T as the linen of which it was 
woven. 

As he rapidly passed the edges through his 
hands, he discovered the name written in a bold 
hand in indelible ink on the border. The dis- 
covery made his face flush, but he discreetly 
held his tongue. 

“ I would, if I were you. You are certainly 
entitled to that much of a reward for your 
promptness. But did he strike you?” 

“ I should think he did. Is n’t there a mark 
here?” baring his forehead by lifting the heavy 
lock of hair that lay just above his eye. 

“ There is, indeed. Let me call the ladies, 
and have them bathe it in arnica.” 

“ No, no ! This is nothing. I will bathe it 
in some cold water before I retire, and that will 
be quite sufficient.” 

“ A fine handkerchief,” the judge said, taking 
hold of the article, Morrison the meanwhile 


IN THE TOILS. 83 

holding in his hand the corner, near which was 
written “ Thaddeus Throckmorton.” 

“ He must be a toney fellow, judging from 
this,” Morrison said, and then put the handker- 
chief away. 

The next morning, on his way home, Mor- 
rison met Billy, the chief of police, and to him 
he related minutely the details of the affair of 
the night before. Finally, swearing him to se- 
crecy, he showed him the handkerchief and the 
name thereon, and asked triumphantly : 

“Now, what do you think?” 

“That beats my day!” 

Then they walked off together, and what 
schemes they devised, only the future could tell. 

That morning Thaddeus said to his mother 
at breakfast : 

“ I guess I will walk over to Tingleman’s 
to-night after supper. You have n’t been over 
lately, have you?” 

“ No, not for two days. I wish you would 
go, son. I am afraid she can not live long.” 

“ I will, mother. It is only two days until 
Christmas. I wonder if anybody has thought 
about Christmas for her children.” 

“ I suppose not. They are quite comfortable 
now, though, thanks to Mrs. Tracy and Josie. 
There is hardly a thing they really need that 
they do not furnish them.” 


8 4 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


The day ended in a snowstorm of great vio- 
lence, the wind piling up great drifts wherever 
it could; but that did not deter Thaddeus from 
carrying out his intention of seeing that Tingle- 
man’s children were provided with Christinas 
gifts. 

He scarcely knew the place when he entered 
the door, so great had been the improvements 
made by the ladies who had cared for the 
family. 

Mrs. Tingleman was hopefully counting on 
another Christmas with her children, but Thad- 
deus felt that that was to be denied her. 

His heart grew warm with sympathy, and 
his generosity outstretched the contents of his 
pocket-book. So taking out his check-book, he 
wrote a check for ten dollars, and handed it to 
Mrs. Tingleman, having made it payable to 
Henry Tingleman. 

The dying mother’s look of thankfulness was 
all the pay he needed for that night’s walk 
through the storm. 

As he turned from the door into the street, 
bowing his head to shield his face from the 
blast, the chief of police called to him : 

“ What on earth brought yon into such a 
neighborhood such a night as this?” 

“O !” said Thaddeus, surprised by the un- 
expected meeting, and not wishing to advertise 


IN THE TOILS. 85 

his benevolence, “ I came over to settle a little 
bill Tingleman had against me.” 

“ Do you owe Tingleman ? I supposed he 
owed everybody.” 

“ Well, his family are sick, and I owed him 
a little. So I came over to settle, thinking they 
might need it this awful weather.” 

Thaddeus thought that a legitimate explana- 
tion. He felt that he did owe Tingleman, as he 
owed every other human being in distress, such 
help and comlort as he could give. 

“ He ’s a hard customer — a regular suspect. 
I have to keep my eye on him. That is why I 
am out here to-night,” the chief said, as they 
plunged along through the blinding storm, and 
waded through the growing drifts. 

At the corner of the square they separated 
with a simple “ good-night.” 

Tingleman knew Billy, the chief of police, 
and Billy knew Tingleman. More than once 
had they drunk at the same bar, and at the ex- 
pense of the same person. But it must be said 
of both that lately they had seldom met in the 
saloons ; for Billy had been informed by those 
in authority that his star depended on his keep- 
ing perfectly sober, and Tingleman loved his 
wife too well to grieve her last days on earth by 
drunken indifference ; and more than that he in- 
tended to commence his old business again soon, 
7 


86 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


and a thief must have a clear brain and a steady 
hand. 

The next day, however, just at nightfall, 
they met. 

“ Hello, Billy !” 

“ Hello, Henry !” 

“Cash a check for me, Billy?” 

“ How much? If it is not too big.” 

“ Ten dollars, only.” 

“ Yes ; step inside this store, sign it on the 
back, and I will cash it for you,” Billy said, after 
looking at the check. 

“What luck!” exclaimed Billy to himself, 
after Tingleman had gone. “ Just to think ! I 
have Thad’s check to Tingleman in my posses- 
sion ! Well, well ; that is a good ten-dollar in- 
vestment.” He hurried to Wendell Morrison 
with the news -of his good luck. 

“ Can you cash a check for me to-night, old 
fel?” he asked Wendell, as he rushed into his 
office. 

“ Guess so. How much ?” 

“ Only ten,” handing the check to Wendell, 
and then stepping back to study the expression 
of his face when he should see what check it was. 

“ Great guns ! Where did you get this?” 

“ Of Tingleman !” 

“And Throckmorton was at Tingleinan’s 
house, you say?” 


IN THE TOILS. 


87 


“ He was. I saw him come out myself.” 

“ Bully boy, Billy !” Morrison said, handing 
him two five-dollar bills in exchange for the 
check. u Now if you can catch Tingleman 
breaking into a house, the handkerchief and this 
check will make Throcky sweat !” 

“ You bet !” 

“ Of course we can not come out and accuse 
him of anything; but we can get up an awful 
smoke, and can arouse suspicion.” 

“ And it does look suspicious,” Billy urged. 

“ It does, for a fact. And the looks is all we 
need at present.” 

“ I ’ll catch ’em yet.” 

The chief of police went out chuckling with 
delight, intent not so much on catching a real 
thief as on mixing an honest and unsuspecting 
man with disreputable characters, and thereby 
ruining him politically and socially. 

The door had hardly closed after him before 
it opened again, and Seth Russell slipped in 
noiselessly, and, approaching Morrison as he 
leaned back in his* office-chair, said earnestly: 

“ I heard you sing at the music ale the other 
night, my son !” 

“ Were you there, Seth ? I am surprised ! 
Good time, though !” 

“ Yes, I was there. Do you know what I 
would do if I had a voice like yours ?” 


88 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“ No. What would you do, Seth ?” Morrison 
asked, flattered by the question and its implica- 
tion, knocking the ashes off his cigar with his 
little finger, and holding it poised in mid-air for 
a second. 

“ I would come in heavy on the refrain !” 

Hurrying to the door, Seth disappeared down- 
stairs, and was out of hearing before Morrison 
comprehended that the compliment was left- 
handed. 


YIII. 


THE BURGLAR CAUGHT. 


¥ R. LYCURGUS LYSANDER was a well- 
known character in Brambleville, and en- 
joyed the distinction of being brother-in-law to 
Judge Tracy, for the wife of the latter was Mr. 
Lysander’s sister. 

He was a lawyer by profession, and a digni- 
fied but eccentric gentleman by practice. 

He was inheritor of great possessions, and 
needed no income from his business, having 
plenty of time for his practice, and large leisure 
for his profession. 

He was small of stature, but had a large head, 
on which he wore a broad-brim soft hat. He 
wrapped his body in a huge cloak that nearly 
reached his heels. 

His feet were small ; his steps short, quick, 
and decided, but exceedingly light; and his 
movement suggestive of thoughtful unconcern. 

In manner he was formal in the extreme, but 
rather diffident. In conversation slow, precise, 
and pedantic. 

Mirth was a stranger to him, and intentional 
flippancy a disgrace, if not a sin ; and yet no one 

89 


90 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


man in Bratnbleville was the cause of so much 
inirthfulness, and no one the subject of so many 
flippant remarks. 

A broad, high forehead made his small eyes 
seem smaller, and his little nose look less than it 
really was. Thin lips marked the boundary of 
a wide mouth that stretched beyond the sides 
of a pointed chin which glistened like a ball of 
polished ivory. 

His undertakings were always important, be- 
cause he would never undertake an unimportant 
work ; and every task essayed received his undi- 
vided attention and best endeavor. 

Mrs. Tracy was devotedly attached to her 
brother, and was blind to his eccentricities, and 
keenly alive to his acquirements in science and 
law ; for he was well read, and moreover a con- 
stant student of books. 

The judge was tolerant of his brother-in-law, 
and sometimes condescended to be amused by 
his quibbles and quirks. 

Their residences occupied adjoining grounds, 
which were of park-like dimensions, abounding 
in shrubbery, and traversed by intersecting paths 
and driveways, which curved and twisted around 
mounds and between trees and flowering plants. 

Mr. Lysander went to his office regularly at 
nine o’clock in the morning, took lunch down 
town at noon, and returned home at five o’clock 


THE BURGLAR CAUGHT. 


91 


in the afternoon for dinner. From this pro- 
gram there was no deviation. 

After dinner he gave personal attention to 
one Jersey cow and one very gentle horse. That 
was his diversion. 

“ I find,” he often said, by way of explaining 
the reason for this work, “ it very conducive to 
the restoration of my mental equilibrium after 
exhaustive application to the intricacies of juris- 
prudence to contemplate the confiding and con- 
stant character of bovine and equine natures. 
To administer to their wants, and witness their 
silent but effective thankfulness, tends to the 
abatement of selfish sentiments.” 

No lady attiring herself for a brilliant recep- 
tion gave greater care to her dress than did Mr. 
Lysander when arraying himself to go out to 
feed his cow and horse. His costume for this 
work had been made to order, and was never 
worn on any other occasion. It was made 
large, so he could put it on over his other 
clothes, after removing his coat. The hat was 
a palmetto that had belonged to a Southern 
planter before the war. 

The burglarious attempt on Judge Tracy’s 
house greatly incensed Mr. Lysander. 

“ A most ungentlemanly procedure,” he as- 
severated the next morning, when Mrs. Tracy 
told him about it. 


92 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“ So it was, Lycurgus,” she assented ; “ bnt I 
am glad he did not succeed.” 

“ Was the perturbation of James very marked, 
as you now recall the scene?” 

“ O, he was excited, of course, but quite cool 
and collected nevertheless.” 

“ From your account of the affair, I iilfer that 
the behavior of Mr. Wendell Morrison was com- 
mendable in the highest degree, and worthy 
the honor of knighthood, if it could be bestowed 
in this age of the world.” 

“ Indeed, Mr. Morrison was more than brave. 
He was valiant and energetic. He insists on 
keeping the handkerchief as a trophy of the 
contest.” 

“ I sincerely trust the ungentlemanly person 
or persons were so completely terrorized by Mr. 
Morrison as to be deterred from burglariously 
entering my residence. He probably is aware 
of my comparatively defenseless condition ; but I 
believe I would defend my castle with my life, 
were he or they to come.” 

“ What would you do, brother, if you should 
find some one in your house?” 

“ If he should not escape by precipitous flight, 
after having received due warning of the conse- 
quences if he did not flee, I believe I should as- 
sault him with whatever murderous weapon I 
could seize upon at the time,” 


THE BURGLAR CAUGHT. 


93 


“ Well, J hope you will not have an occasion 
to prove your courage and strength,” Mrs. Tracy 
said, and the conversation drifted into other 
channels. 

That night supper was late at Mr. Lysan- 
der’s — a very unusual occurrence at that home — 
and Mr. Hysander donned his stable costume, 
and went to feed L,ady Jane Grey and Pegasus. 

He returned just as supper was announced, 
and hastily removed his costume, and deposited 
it on a high-back arm-chair in the sitting- 
room — a very careless act that was not at all 
like him ; but he chose that in preference to 
being late to the table. 

After an hour at the dinner-table with his 
family, discoursing learnedly at intervals upon 
every subject mentioned, he excused himself, 
and returned to the sitting-room, dimly lighted 
by the hall gas that shone through the transom. 

“Good-evening, sir!” he said, bowing to the 
figure his cast-off clothes made when he had put 
them on the chair. But the figure was power- 
less to return the polite salutation, much to Mr. 
Tysander’s regret and surprise. 

“What gives me the honor of this unex- 
pected visit?” he ventured to remark. 

He felt his hair assuming an erect position, 
and chill after chill chased each other down his 
back ; but he stood his ground bravely. 


94 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“May I take your hat, sir?” 

He stretched out his hand to receive the 
palmetto ; but the chair was unable to give it 
to him. 

“Would you dine with us? Dinner is just 
ready,” he stammered. 

His own shoes creaked as he moved uneasily ; 
but he thought it was the creaking of the chair 
where the clothes hung. The gas flared and 
flickered, and the hat and coat seemed to move ; 
but no voice was heard. Mr. Lysander felt it 
was time for vigorous measures. 

“I am amazed at your utter indifference to all 
rules of politeness !” he said, with stronger voice 
and some show of asperity. 

But the hat said nothing. 

“Sir, I shall be obliged to ask you to with- 
draw at once !” 

But the breeches made no attempt to move. 

“In the event of your refusing, I shall be 
obliged to go for the police ; and prudent care 
for your reputation, if not personal comfort, 
would suggest avoidance of that trouble,” he 
said, huskily. 

The figure did not feel alarmed at this threat, 
and was silent and motionless as ever. 

He retreated until he was near the dining- 
room door. 

“Mrs. Lysander!” 


THE BURGLAR CAUGHT. 


95 


“Yes, dear.” 

“Do not come in, Mrs. Lysander; but lock the 
door from that side. I have a burglar trapped.” 

“O Lycurgus!” screamed his wife. 

“Opapa! papa!” 

With screams and cries of terror, his daugh- 
ters rushed about the dining-room, wringing 
their hands, and adding to their father’s fright 
by their very extremity of fear. 

“O dear! O dear me! What shall we do? 
O dear !” they cried. 

Mrs. Lysander locked the door and bolted it, 
and, to make it more secure, held the knob with 
both hands, and pressed against it with all her 
might, forgetting that she was locking her hus- 
band in, as well as locking the burglar out. 

After a time the ladies became quiet, and 
ventured to ask, through the locked door : 

“Papa, are you there?” 

But there was no answer. 

“My dear,” pleaded Mrs. Lysander, “do an- 
swer us ! Are you there ?” 

But there was no response from beyond the 
door, nor any noise to indicate there was any 
life there. 

“Is my papa killed? O! — what was that?” 
one of his daughters cried. 

A voice from the door-yard reached their ears. 
It was their father’s. 


96 


AN ODD FELLOW '. 


“I have left the door open. If you wish to 
escape the vengeance of the law, now is your 
chance !” 

“It is papa calling to the man to come out. 
Papa is safe anyhow! I am glad of that!” the 
other daughter exclaimed. 

“Police! police! police ! p-o-l-i-c-e /” 

Mr. Lysander was lifting up his voice in a 
very undignified manner, and with something of 
fright in its tremulousness. 

“Where are you, papa?” 

“Here I am, behind this evergreen, my dear. 
I am willing the burglar should have a chance 
for his life. If he will let me alone, I will not 
disturb him.” 

“Has he hurt you, papa?” 

“Not much, daughter — not any, really; and 
I am willing to let him off at that.” 

“Has he gone, papa?” 

“No, daughter. He still sits there. I see 
him from here.” 

“Go, call the police, papa!” 

“ I can not, dear. My duty is here. I must 
defend my home, and protect my family. I will 
not run from any danger while they are ex- 
posed !” 

“Papa, come in here ! Come in here, papa !” 

“I can not. He will not let me, I am sure. 
I wish I could. Police ! police !” 


THE BURGLAR CAUGHT. 


97 


“Well!” a voice called from the street. “Who 
wants police !” 

“Mr. Lycurgus Lysander. I have a burglar 
caught, and can not let him go. Are you a 
policeman ?” 

“No; but I am Thaddeus Throckmorton. 
What can I do for you?” 

“Would you mind asking that burglar in the 
house to come out, before the police come and 
take him out?” 

“A burglar? In the house? Why are you 
here ?” 

“Lycurgus, is that you? What is the matter? 
We heard the girls screaming, and have come 
down to see what can be the matter here.” 

“O my sister!” he said, answering Mrs. Tracy’s 
question, “Heaven has sent you, I am sure. A 
burglar is in our house, and will not come out.” 

“A queer burglar! Ours would not stay. 
You must be mistaken, Lycurgus !” 

The meantime, Thaddeus advanced to the 
open door, and entered the dining-room. For a 
second he was startled by the outline of a man 
sitting in a chair, and he hesitated ; but only for 
a second. Going up to the chair, he discovered 
the real cause of the alarm, and called out : 

“Bring a light, Mrs. Lysander, or open the 
door, and I will show you the burglar. But it is 
no burglar at all.” 


9 8 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


Reassured by his confident tones, Mrs. Ly- 
sander opened the door, and brought a light, fol- 
lowed timidly by the girls. 

“Is that all!” 

She sank into a chair, and was dumb with 
confusion. 

“Come, see your burglar, papa!” one of the 
girls called to her father, who was yet in the 
darkness, behind the evergreen-tree, giving his 
sister a minute account of all the happenings of 
the few preceding minutes. There was laughter 
in the voice, and Mrs. Tracy said : 

“It was all a mistake, I am sure, Lycurgus,” 
and at once hurried into the house, closely fol- 
lowed by Josie, and after her, Mr. Lysander. 

“It fooled rile, in the dark,” said Thaddeus, 
gallantly, noticing how ashamed Mr. Lysander 
looked, as he saw the cause of his fright clearly 
revealed in the glare of the gas now lighted in 
the room. 

“Burglars are either just ahead of you or 
just after you,” Mrs. Tracy said to Thaddeus, 
referring to his presence at their house the night 
of their experience in that line. 

“But this is not a burglar,” Thaddeus said, 
coloring visibly, in spite of his effort not to ; for 
somehow Mrs. Tracy’s manner, as well as words, 
impressed him as expressing suspicion. But 
why should they? At once he was uneasy, and 


THE BURGLAR CAUGHT. 


99 


wished he had not answered the call of the fright- 
ened lawyer. 

“It is nice to have you around,” whispered 
Josie, as she came to his side, “ whether with 
burglars or alone.” 

“Thank you ! But I must go.” 

“Go with us, will you?” she said, earnestly. 

“Not now, Josie. Wish I could.” 

His heart was heavy as stone, but he could 
not tell why. He wanted to go with Josie; but 
Mrs. Tracy’s remark had wounded him so sorely 
that he must needs go off alone for his hurt 
to heal. 

“ I will bid you good-night !” he said, bowing 
and stepping back toward the door. 

“Good-night!” said Mr. Lysander. 

But no one thanked him for his services, nor 
asked him to stay longer. Josie turned a lov- 
ing glance upon him ; but Mrs. Tracy looked 
coldly indifferent, he thought, and so he hurried 
away. 

A small boy, passing toward town when Mr. 
Lysander was most lustily calling for police, gave 
wings to his feet, and sped on, hunting for a po- 
liceman until he found one, and brought him to 
investigate the cause of the outcry, going with 
him to share in the honor of coming to the 
rescue. 

“For heaven’s sake, Lycurgus,” said Mrs. 


ICO 


AN ODD FELLOW \ 


Tracy, “do not let this get out ! Think of what 
a laughing-stock we will all become !” 

“/will not speak of it, my sister,” he said, 
humbly. 

“And / will not,” she said, “nor Josie, either; 
and, of course, your wife and daughters will not; 
so I guess it is safe with us.” 

“But, then, Mr. Throckmorton knows it, and 
he will put it in the paper,” said one of the young 
ladies, in horror. 

“No, he will not,” said Josie, decidedly; “I 
will guarantee that. I will ask him not to.” 

“I wish you would,” Mr. Lysander said, al- 
most pleadingly. 

“Did you call for the police?” 

The voice came from the yard, where the po- 
liceman stood, looking across the porch through 
the open door into the room where' all were 
seated. 

“No! yes! why — that is, we had a little scare; 
but it is all over,” Mr. Lysander said, going to 
the door. 

“What was it all about?” the officer asked, in 
lower tones. 

“Well, we thought there was a burglar here, 
but we found out better.” 

“So no one has been here but your own 
folks — your family, and Mrs. Tracy and her 
daughter?” 


THE BURGLAR CAUGHT ; 


IOI 


“No; that is, only one other. Mr. Thaddeus 
Throckmorton was here, in the midst of our 
fright ; but he has gone.” 

“And there was no burglar that you could 
see, and no one here but Thad ?” 

“That is all.” 

“ But you thought you saw some one prowling 
around?” 

“No, not prowling, but in the house.” 

“And what was it?” 

“Well, you see, when I got in from the yard, 
Mr. Throckmorton had the gas lighted, and he 
was the only one I saw here.” 

“I see ! But he was in the house?” 

“Yes, when I came in.” 

“Who was first in the room after you saw the 
burglar, or thought you saw him ?” 

“As I said before, Mr. Throckmorton was the 
first.” 

“I see!” 

When the Banner came out next day it had 
no mention of the affair ; for Josie had kept her 
promise, and had asked that no reference be 
made to the episode. 

But the police and their friends had a story 
to tell, and they told it with much gusto and 
many a sly wink. In substance it was, that Mr. 
Lysander’s house had been broken into, and the 
only person seen near there that night was Thad- 
8 


102 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


deus Throckmorton. To this they added that 
the chief of police knew something about the 
attempt on Judge Tracy’s house that reflected 
no honor on the young editor. 

But Thaddeus was giving his attention to acts 
of mercy the meanwhile. 

“Will you — tell me — good-bye, dear?” 

Mrs. Tingleman turned her head slowly to- 
ward her husband, as he was about to leave the 
room. 

“ I did tell you good-bye, my little wifie ; did 
you forget?” 

“Yes — I — know. I — did — not — forget, dear; 
but I — am — going — to leave — you, and — I 
want — to tell — you — good-bye again.” 

“ No, no, little one ; do n’t say that. You 
must not leave me ! Who will love me then ?” 

“ God, my dear. God loves you now, and — 
will always — love you.” 

“ No, no ; God hates your Henry, little wifie. 
No one loves me but you ; and now you are 
going away !” 

“ God loves you, Henry, — my dear — husband. 
He sent his — children — to us, — Mr. Throckmor- 
ton, Mrs. Tracy, and Miss — Josie — and all, — be- 
cause he loves you.” 

“ They came to you , my little wife, not to meT 

Then Henry Tingleman’s heart smote him 
hard. He remembered how he had repaid Mrs. 


THE BURGLAR CAUGHT. 


03 


Tracy’s kindness by attempting to rob her of her 
diamonds. 

“ They — came to you — too,” she said, faintly. 
“ My Henry is so good to me.” 

Henry Tingleman bowed his head and wept. 
His wife’s words were true. He did love her 
tenderly, and he cared for her in her sickness 
with all the thoughtfulness possible. 

“Henry?” 

“Yes, my darling.” 

“ Do — not — go — away from — me — to-night !” 

“I will not. I will not!” His heart was 
breaking. 

“Henry?” 

“ Well, wifie, my little one,” he almost sobbed. 

“ Don’t drink any more, will you?” 

“ No,” he answered quickly ; but his heart 
was not in his word, and she knew it. 

“ Don't drink any more. The — children, — 
Henry; the — children!” 

Her voice was husky, and her eyes full of 
tears. 

“No, little one. I promise you, no!” and his 
voice betrayed the depth of his feeling quite as 
much as the tear that glistened for an instant in 
his eye. 

“Will you stay — to-night?” 

“ Yes ; I will not leave you ; but I must go 
and tell them to get some one else.” 


104 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“ Yes, go,” she said contentedly, and then 
made herself comfortable to await his return. 
As he was about to pass out she called : “Henry? 
Will — you — ask — Mr. — Throckmorton — to — 
tell — me — good-bye ?” 

“Yes, my little one,” pulling his hat close 
down over his eyes. 

‘ ‘ And — Mrs. — Tracy — and — Mr. — Mr. — the 
minister?” 

“ Yes, yes,” he said, his hand on the door- 
knob, anxious to be away that he might get back 
before the death angel called, for he knew he 
was coming that very night. 

The children were in the other room with 
Aunty Day, who had been their nurse since the 
first one was taken ill. 

Henry Tingleman closed the door behind 
him, and went directly to the office of the lum- 
ber company, knowing they would not leave 
until six. He found the clerk in, and easily 
made arrangement for some one to watch for 
him that night. 

“ How is your wife?” asked the clerk, as 
Henry was about to leave the office. 

The words were cold and formal, spoken out 
of a sense of propriety rather than from a feeling 
of sympathy. Henry paused, held the door-latch 
a moment, rallied his senses, beat back his emo- 
tion, and said, with an effort to be calm : 


THE BURGLAR CAUGHT. 


105 


“ She will soon be well — I hope !” 

He left the office, and started for Thad’s 
house. 

When he left his own house, a policeman, who 
had been waiting, hidden from view, followed 
him to the lumber-yard, and kept close behind 
him as he hurried to Thaddeus’s home. 

He was not at home, but his mother recog- 
nized Tingleman, took his message, and said she 
would herself go 'for the minister. 

That w r as the night Thad’s weekly went to 
press, and he was always late that night. 

Henry Tingleman went directly home, and 
was shadowed all the way by the policeman. 
When he entered his house, the officer secreted 
himself to await his coming out. He had no 
doubt he would appear after a little. While he 
waited, Thaddeus came. The policeman saw his 
face distinctly in the light from the door when 
it was opened to admit him. 

The minister was out of town. Mrs. Tracy 
had not been called by Tingleman. He could 
not find it in his heart to go there for her. His 
wife did not notice the omission of that part of 
her request. 

The policeman waited for an hour, for two ; 
but Tingleman and Thaddeus did not come out. 
He left, and reported to the chief what he had 
seen. It was enough. 


io6 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


In the last hours of her earth-life, Henry’s 
wife committed him to the care and help of Mr. 
Throckmorton. 

“ He,” she said gaspingly, her thin and fever- 
scarred lips trembling under the burden of the 
message they bore, “ has — never — never — been 
cross — to — me. If — he — would — never — drink 
again, — all — would — be — well. Help — him , — 
for — the — children’s sake. You — will ; won’t — 
you?” 

Thaddeus could not keep the tears back, as 
he watched the face of the faithful wife, and 
noted the love-light that beamed just a second 
from the eyes fast losing their power to see, and 
he said, earnestly : 

“ I will help him, Mrs. Tingleman. God 
being my helper, I will help him.” 

“You,” she said to Henry, who knelt by her 
side, “will — let — him — help — you. He is — 
God’s — child — I know! Will — you?” 

He bowed his head, kissed his wife’s hand, 
and rained tears upon it. 

“ The — children ? I — ” 

She looked at Thaddeus, and then at her hus- 
band, seemingly in doubt what to say. 

“What — is — it — wifie, my little one?” Henry 
asked. 

“The — children, — his mother,” looking to- 
ward Thaddeus. Rallying her fast-failing 


THE BURGLAR CAUGHT . 


107 


strength, she said : “ Will — she — take — take — 

take — the — children ?” 

“ The children will be taken care of, Mrs. 
Tingleman,” Thaddeus said. 

“Will — your — mother — ” 

“ Yes ; mother will see to them.” 

“ And — you — will — see — to — my — husband ?” 

The last word was spoken so tenderly — was 
uttered with so much soul — that Henry groaned 
aloud in agony, realizing that soon that true 
heart would be still in death. 

“ Det me go for some one?” said Thaddeus, 
rising hastily. 

“ No — no !” Mrs. Tingleman said, pleadingly. 
“ You — and — Henry — enough.” 

“ Do n’t go,” said Henry. “ It is no use. She 
does n’t want any one. I would rather be here 
alone with you.” 

“My dear man, your wife is dying. L,et me 
call in some of the neighbors. Wake up the 
children, or Aunty Day!” 

Mrs. Tingleman shook her head, and said 
again : “ You, — Henry.” 

“She must have her own way,” Henry said, 
soothingly, kneeling and pillowing his head close 
beside that of his wife, clasping her two hands in 
one of his, while with the other he softly stroked 
her face. 

“ She is asleep,” said Thaddeus, presently. 


io8 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“Go sit by the fire. You must be tired, kneel- 
ing there so long.” 

Henry arose, and went away a few minutes, 
leaving Thaddeus to watch. After a little while 
he returned, and together they sat until the gray 
dawn tinged the east with light. Then Thad- 
deus went home. 

Before he left he called the neighbors ; for 
Mrs. Tingleman’s voice could no longer protest. 
She had gone away forever. 

“ What unearthly hours you keep !” said the 
chief of police, as he overtook Thaddeus just as 
the gaslights were being put out along the 
streets. 

“ It is rather suspicious,” Thaddeus said, 
laughingly, and passed on, not heeding the 
chief’s words as he called out : 

“ I will have to keep my eye on you” 


IX. 


THE SELECT SCHOOL. 

T3 RAMBIyEVILLE had a school that received 
— ' no State or county aid, graduated no stu- 
dents, gave no diplomas ; but yet was popular 
and well attended, and was a feature of the 
town — quite as much so as its court-house or its 
jail, its cemetery or its system of water-works. 

The school was known as Professor Heart- 
breaks’s Academy, because the professor owned 
the building in which the school assembled daily, 
and because he kept the books. He was not a 
professor of languages, nor of sciences, but of art; 
and his especial work lay in the direction of 
broken pumps, all of which he restored, on short 
notice, to their original usefulness. Or, failing 
in that, he substituted a new pump for the 
broken one. Therein was his gain. His busi- 
ness was to keep school, but he sold pumps to 
pay expenses. 

The professor was an oddity. Took at his 
picture. He was tall — quite tall — and bent a 
little in the middle, as if his life had been spent 
in walking in places too low for him. His form 
was spare, and his arms and legs seemed like 

109 


I IO 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


gas-pipe appendages. His head was long up 
and down, rather broad at the top, and decidedly 
narrow at the chin, tapering down to a point at 
the extremity of his auburn whiskers, which de- 
pended from his chin. 

Whoever took the professor for a novice or 
an easy victim to any scheme, reckoned always 
without his host. 

His favorite position was on his high stool 
at his high desk in one corner of his shop. Sit- 
ting on this perch, his feet on the rungs of the 
stool, he whittled away at a piece of soft pine, 
grinding slowly between his teeth a generous 
supply of best fine-cut tobacco. His whittling 
was not the aimless cutting of a stick, but was 
the work of carving out some tool or toy — a 
knife, a shovel, a chain, or a gun. The only 
condition imposed on those who attended his 
school was that they should not sit idly by, but 
should whittle ; and should not whittle aim- 
lessly, but must whittle something out of the 
soft, straight pine which he furnished. 

Hence the sides of his shop were covered 
with specimens of the handiwork of the pupils. 
These consisted of boats, chains, swords, guns, 
puzzles, pumps, balls, bats, barrels, and so on, 
and so on, and so on. 

The seats of the school were trestles, benches, 
broken chairs, sticks of wood on ends, barrels, 


THE SELEC7 SCHOOL. 


in 


boxes, and boards, the last placed with ends 
resting on trestles. 

The stove, a capacious, oblong furnace, that 
devoured wood three feet long and one foot 
through, was the center around which the school 
congregated in the winter, and against which 
they viciously expectorated tobacco-juice in the 
summer ; for the school never closed except for 
Sunday. 

Professor Heartbreaks did not join the circle 
around the stove, but sat on his stool near by, 
and from this throne ruled the assembly like a 
monarch, starting and stopping all discussions, 
directing the current of all conversation, and 
dismissing the school peremptorily when he had 
a call to mend a pump or to put in a new one. 

The pupils came from all parts of the city, 
and from all classes of society ; so that what did 
not come up for discussion was not of impor- 
tance enough to make a ripple of interest. 

No man passing the school was safe from an 
invitation to come in. If he complied with the 
request, he was sure to find a silent group of 
whittlers — so silent and so busy whittling that, 
for a few seconds, hot flashes of embarrassment 
would redden his face, though every one present 
might be a personal acquaintance. If he should 
decline to “come in,” a dozen or so of the 
“ pupils ” would tumble out of the door, and, 


I 12 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


standing on the sidewalk, look after the receding 
figure so pityingly that he would wish he had 
stopped — their cruel comments ! 

Professor Heartbreaks usually opened the in- 
terview by a question indicating the topic of con- 
versation, and then there would follow a running 
fire of question and comment that would dis- 
count the best effort of many a lawyer. 

It happened that one day Rev. Archibald 
Outwright was called in to contribute his share 
to the general fund of information. 

“ Much sickness, parson?” 

Thus spoke Professor Heartbreaks, glancing 
up just one second from the sugar-spoon he was 
fashioning from soft pine. 

“ Not a great deal,” he replied, taking the 
seat offered him on the end of a trestle near the 
stove. 

“No funerals, then?” 

“ Yes. I attended one last week. A Mrs. 
Tingleman died of pulmonary trouble.” 

“ Any children ?” 

“Yes; three little ones.” 

“ Father living?” 

“ You know Henry, or Hank, Professor,” said 
a pupil, interrupting, “ the night-watch at the 
lumber-yard?” 

“ Yes ; that him ?” 

“ Yep.” 


THE SELECT SCHOOL. 


1 13 


“Dost his job, I heerd,” said another. 

“Hadn’t heard that,” said the minister. “He 
was trusty, was he not ?” 

“Well, he ’d never carry off a meeting-house; 
now you can put your bottom dollar on that,” 
another whittler volunteered. 

“Joe Bigler tol’ me a’ yiste’day, ur te’-day — 
can’t jist say which — he ’d ad^rtist his goods 
at awkshun,” said another. 

“He’d better; and the sooner the better, if 
all is true that’s been tol’ aroun’.” 

“How’s that?” asked the minister. 

“You ’ve heerd of Judge Tracy’s house, and 
Mr. Lysander’s house, and a whole lot more 
houses, gettin’ broke into, hain’t yer?” 

“Yes, certainly; but is Mr. Tingleman impli- 
cated in such work as that? I knew he was 
poor, but I thought he was honest,” the minister 
said, earnestly. 

“Do you think it will snow or rain?” asked 
Professor Heartbreaks, directing his question to 
the minister, and by that all the school knew 
that further discussion of Tingleman’s character 
must cease. 

The minister said rather coolly, for he was 
thinking of Tingleman, and was far more con- 
cerned about him and his children than about 
the kind of weather the community would have, 
“Neither, I hope,” and was about to ask some- 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


114 

thing more about Tingleman, when the professor 
suddenly left his perch, stepped to the door, and 
called out: 

“ Hey, Andy Smoothiron ! Hey, Andy ! Come 
in a minute.” 

Andy was passing the shop on the other side 
of the street ; but he halted, turned about, and 
came across, entering the shop just as the min- 
ister passed out. The professor the meantime 
had resumed his seat on the high stool. 

“Run down any of them thieves yet, Andy?” 
said the professor, as the big policeman backed 
up to the stove, and crossed his hands behind 
him to protect his overcoat-tail from the heat of 
the stove. 

“Hain’t ’zactly run any in; but don’t you 
forget hit, we ’re hot on their trail. I tracked 
one on ’em into his house, just the other 
night.” 

“Why didn’t you nab him?” said one. 

“Well — ” and the big policeman hesitated. 

A suppressed laugh ran around the room. 

“Had to leave him, I suppose, for the chief 
to capture, and get another feather in his cap,” 
suggested another. 

“You are clear off,” said Andy, coloring. 
“Ef any of you fellers ’a’ knowed who it wuz I 
tracked, you ’d swear you ’d as soon suspect an 
angel from heaven as him.” 


THE SELECT SCHOOL. 


115 

“An’ you let him slip?” queried one, in 
surprise. 

“No, I hain’t let him slip, nuther.” He 
spoke indignantly. “I can put my hand on him 
any day, or any hour in the day or night, and 
I ’ll do it, when we git everything sot just so. 
You fellers do n’t know nothing !” 

“I’ll bet you a dollar to two cents I can 
name your man,” said another, banteringly. 

“I ’ll go you for the cigars, but won’t bet no 
dollar,” said Andy, turning about to face his 
challenger. 

“Thaddeus Throckmorton,” said the other, 
closing his knife and putting it in his pocket. 
Then, shaking his completed wooden pistol in 
Andy’s face, he said, “And if you police hain’t 
got anything better ’n that , you ’d just as well 
be at home asleep, for all the good you do 
a-watchin’ for thieves.” 

“When are you going to get new uniforms?” 
said the professor. 

And Andy was glad for a chance to change 
the subject ; for a murmur of approval had 
greeted the outspoken words of his challenger. 
He said, however, before answering the professor: 

“I hain’t said it’s him;” and then, to the 
professor, “Not until spring, I guess.” 

“Hello, Throcky!” called the professor, as 
Thaddeus passed the door. “Come in.” 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


1 16 


“Guess I ’ll go,” said Andy. 

“You’d better,” said some one, and the two 
men passed each other in the doorway. 

“How are you, Andy?” said Thad, kindly. 

“So’s to be around,” said Andy, with a wink 
at the school ; but they did not respond to 
the hint. 

“How are your children getting on?” asked 
the professor. 

“Very well, indeed.” 

“ That was a sad death !” 

“In some respects, yes; but in others, it was 
a very blessed death.” 

“Did he take it hard?” asked the professor, 
softly. v 

“Very. They were devotedly attached to 
each other.” 

“Where is he ?” 

“He has given up his place, and will go West 
awhile. We will see to the children until he 
comes for them.” 

“Get married again, likely.” 

“No, I think not; at least, not soon. I be- 
lieve he is a changed man.” 

“Has a hard name, Throcky.” 

“Yes, I know; but I think undeserved.” 

“Then you do not believe he is the one who 
breaks into houses around here?” the professor 
asked. 


THE SELECT SCHOOL. 


ii 7 

“No more than I believe I would do such a 
thing.” 

The school smiled at each other, but Thad- 
deus did not notice the smile ; for he was look- 
ing straight in the face of his questioner. 

“But if he ’d get caught, you ’d believe dif- 
f’rent?” said one. 

“I would have to.” 

“And then it might look bad for you, seeing 
you and him are such friends.” 

Thaddeus smiled, and then laughed heartily. 
The school smiled, but they did not laugh. They 
knew what seed had already been sown, and 
reckoned that the harvest would be bitterness 
for Thaddeus. 

“Why, Professor,” he said, after his laughter 
had subsided, “ I was born in Brambleville. My 
father lived here twenty years. My mother is 
here yet. Everybody knows me. But, then, I 
know you are just guying me, for fun. I am, 
though, no more a friend of Henry Tingleman 
than I am of any man in need. His wife was 
sick and dying. I went there to help. His chil- 
dren are motherless, and the last request his wife 
made was, that my mother would look after 
them. If he had been a convicted thief, and 
not merely a ‘ suspect,’ I could not have done 
otherwise for her and the children. They are 
not to be blamed.” 


9 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


118 


“You did just right,” said the professor, ear- 
nestly. “But he is a ‘suspect,’ and he may get 
you in trouble.” 

“ He never will. Who could be so low as to 
concoct tales to my hurt from what I have done — 
very little, I am sure, but done cheerfully — for a 
needy family ?” 

“There are lots of low-down- folks in politics, 
Throcky,” the professor said, solemnly. 

“Throcky” was a common name for him 
among his friends, and it had no unpleasant 
sound to him. Only when it was used by his 
opponents, with a twist and a tone that was very 
rasping, did it grate harshly on his ear. 

“I am sorry to admit that there are.” 

“But the professor and the school are for you .” 

“Thank you !” 

“That’s correct,” said another. 

“No matter what the police say,” put in an- 
other, significantly. 

“The police?” said Thaddeus, in surprise. 
“ Not about me ?” 

“That’s it,” several answered. 

“Andy — that just went out?” he questioned, 
eagerly. 

“We tell no tales out of school,” the professor 
said, with a smile. 

“But am I to understand that the police are 


THE SELECT SCHOOL. 


19 


associating my name with Tingleman’s — and — 
and — with house-breaking?” He was excited 
and angry. 

“Throcky,” the professor said, kindly, “do 
not get us into it, will you ?” 

“Certainly not — in no way, shape, or form.” 

“Can we trust you?” 

“On my word as a gentleman, you can.” 

“Well, then, the school has been looking into 
this matter all along. We ’ve studied it pretty 
hard, and I guess we Ve ’bout learned all there ’s 
in it, and we Ve ’eluded they have sot a trap for 
you ; and they say they have caught you.” 

“ They say ? Who says? Caught me?” 

“Now, you are excited, Throcky. We are for 
you — the whole school, to a man ; but you must 
look out, and play an even hand, or they ’ll 
down you !” 

“ They ’ll down me? Who are they? The 
police ?” 

“Yes; and the politicians.” 

“Police and politicians?” 

“Now you have it!” 

“I know the police; but who are the poli- 
ticians ?” 

“Them that made the police. You know who 
they be, do n’t you ?” 

“Yes,” sadly. 


120 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“The school's for you.” 

“Thank you !” 

“Grub- time !” said the professor; and at once 
all closed their knives, put aside their whittling, 
and went out to their homes. 


X. 

A PLAUSIBLE PLEA. 


\ WENDELL MORRISON found great 
*■ * pleasure in contemplating every circum- 
stance that was calculated to reflect upon the 
character of Thaddeus, or to injure him in pub- 
lic estimation. He listened eagerly to Andy 
Smoothiron’s recital of what occurred at the 
“Select School;” but the wily policeman was 
careful to make a report that was sure to please 
Wendell, without regard to the truthfulness of 
his story. What was truth as compared with 
his place on “the force?” What was truth 
compared with the friendship of so popular and 
so influential a man as Wendell ? 

“Gad!” exclaimed the policeman, as he en- 
tered Wendell’s office, and found him alone ; “ it 
is gittin’ all-fired duberous and nasty for Throcky. 
Ef I wuz talked ’bout like him, I ’d go West, 
an’ grow up. Jeeminy cracky! he hain’t got no 
show here, whiles the best men is talkin’ ’gin 
him like they are now.” 

“What’s up now?” Wendell said, wheeling 
about in his chair, and motioning Andy to a seat 
near him. 

The two men supposed they were alone ; but 

121 


122 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


Judge Tracy was in the private-office, and heard 
all their conversation ; for he had not gone to 
dinner, as Wendell thought he had. 

“Well, Perfess’ Heartbreaks called me inter 
the school, and, Moly Hoses ! how they did go 
for Throcky !” 

“ Did they?” asked Wendell, gleefully. “What 
did they say? Who was there ?” 

“You know Mort Humphrey?” 

“Yes; did he say anything?” 

Wendell was genuinely surprised at that in- 
timation ; and more, he was really pained for a 
second ; for, to even a man like Wendell, it 
seemed sorrowful that so true a friend as Mort 
should desert Thaddeus. He leaned forward to 
catch every word Andy had to tell. The big 
policeman glanced cautiously about, and then 
said, in a low tone : 

“ Say anything? Jeeminy cracky! he come 
right out, and said he knowed Throcky was a 
thief!” 

“Mort Humphrey said that?” asked Wendell, 
still in doubt, the assertion seemed so far from 
what he would expect. In his own heart he be- 
lieved in Throckmorton’s honesty, and knew he 
was simply a victim of circumstances ; and it 
was hard for him to believe Mort Humphrey 
would even ^suspect his friend of wrong-doing, 
much less charge him with theft. 


A PLAUSIBLE PLEA. 


123 


“Well, now, may be you think Pm a liar!” 
said Andy, drawing back, and assuming an in- 
dignant air. 

“Certainly not — by no means,” said Wendell, 
apologetically; “but you might have misunder- 
stood him.” 

“Misunderstood nothing! I tell you he sayed 
it, in just them words.” 

“Tell me all the conversation,” said Wendell, 
turning to his desk, and picking up a pencil to 
write down the words. 

“No you don’t!” said Andy, divining his 
purpose. “ I ain’t goin’ to make no deppersi- 
tion to the exact words.” 

“Very well,” said Wendell, dropping his pen- 
cil, and turning back to face Andy ; “ tell me as 
nearly as you can recollect.” 

“You won’t haul me up for a witness?” 

“Of course not, you fool !” said Wendell, im- 
patiently. “This will never get into court; and 
if it did, hearsay evidence is nothing.” 

“Well,” Andy commenced, being reassured, 
“I sez, sez I, they ’ve got them thieves cornered. 
Then they sez, sez they, ‘ What thieves?’ ” 

“Who said?” asked Wendell. 

“Somebody ; I do n’t know who, now.” 

“I thought you said Mort said that?” 

“Not that . I ’111 coinin’ to what Mort sayed.” 

“O! Well, goon.” 


124 


AN ODD FELLOW . 


“They sez, sez they, ‘What thieves?’ Then 
I sez, sez I, ‘ What broke into Tracy’s, and Ly- 
sander’s, and the balance of them’s houses.’ 
Then up spoke Mort, and sez, sez he, ‘Chestnuts!’ 
Then I fired up, and sez, sez I, ‘What’s chest- 
nuts ?’ And he sez, sez he, ‘About them thieves.’ 
Then I sez, sez I — pretty hot, I tell you ; for he 
was tryiu’ to guy me — sez I to him, ‘What do 
you know about it?’ And he sez, sez he, ‘You 
police are clear off.’ Them air his very words. 
Then I sez, ‘May be you know ?’ And he sez, 
sez he, ‘ I do know. It ’s Thaddeus Throck- 
morton.’ Right out, like that, before the whole 
school. I wuz just fixin’ my mouth to ask him 
for some pointers, when who on earth should 
pop in but Throcky himself! And / left.” 

“What did the others say?” asked Wendell, 
quietly, for he was oppressed by the news Andy 
brought him. He was willing to smirch Throck- 
morton’s name in private, and at such times and 
places as he thought it wise and advantageous 
to do so, but he did not want such a report to 
get to the great public ear ; for he was editor of 
the chief paper of the party in that locality, and 
he did not want him hurt like that. 

“They sayed nutliin’, but looked most awful 
wise.” 

“Didn’t any one defend him?” 

“Not a’ one.’ 


A PLAUSIBLE PLEA. 


125 


“But yoit do n’t believe he was in the scrape, 
do you ?” 

“’Pon my soul, it looks bad. At fust I’d 
’a’ swore him innercent ; but now, seein’ the 
word comes from so many directions, they must 
be somethin’ in it. Can’t have no smoke with- 
out fire ; and a smothered fire at that.” 

“ And you think all the school sided with 
Mort?” 

“ I know it. He wuz speakin’ for the whole 
pile of them. They just as good as said so.” 

“ Why did n’t you stay and see how Thaddeus 
would act, and what they would say to him?” 

“ Well, I wuz in a hurry to git back to the 
square.” 

“ Did he speak to you ?” 

“ Never noticed me no more than if I ’d been 
a dog.” 

“ Why ’s that, I wonder ?” 

“ Do n’t he know I ’ve tracked him all over 
this town ? Do n’t he know I ’ve seed him at 
most suspicious hours, goin’ home, and so has 
Billy.” 

“Where is Tingleman now?” 

“ Do n’t know where he mout be this blessed 
minute ; but I ’ll tell you where I tracked him last 
night, just after dark.” 

“Where?” 

“ To Throcky’s house !” 


126 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“Did he go in?” 

“ Go in ! You bet. I watched a hour, an’ he 
wuz still thar.” 

“ What time do you go on duty ?” 

“ Go on at six in the morning, and off at six 
at night. Then Billy comes on, and stays until 
morning.” 

“ Did you tell Billy?” 

“ No. I was going home, and hain’t seed him 
sence.” 

“ Well,” said Wendell, rising and shutting his 
desk, preparatory to leaving for dinner, “ keep 
your eyes open, Andy, and your ears too, and 
let me know what ’s new.” 

Judge Tracy remained in his office. Had he 
indeed so long been deceived with reference to 
Thaddeus and Wendell? He had always thought 
Thaddeus the more estimable of the two, reckon- 
ing him honest, energetic, talented, and deserv- 
ing the best place in society, and destined to 
achieve distinction in political life. He had 
rated Wendell as brilliant, but unreliable ; lack- 
ing persistence, and destined to wane in influence 
as he developed indiscretions into excesses. He 
had helped Thaddeus gladly, for his own sake, 
and had encouraged him in his attentions to 
Josie. He had taken Wendell into partnership 
from selfish motives, having several cases on 
hand that needed the brilliant and dashing, even 


A PLAUSIBLE PLEA. 


127 


vehement, advocacy that he knew Wendell would 
give them in open court, while he would look up 
the vital points, and manage the cases in every 
other respect. So far his most sanguine expecta- 
tions had been exceeded by Wendell’s achieve- 
ments. There was more in the young man than 
he believed. He had carefully guarded Josie 
from association with him, and could not tolerate 
the idea of her choosing him as a friend. Per- 
haps he was wrong in his estimate of him in 
every particular. That is what puzzled him, and 
that is why he was still in the private office when 
Wendell returned from dinner. 

“ Wendell,” said the judge, coming out as the 
young lawyer seated himself to finish his writing, 
“ what you told me the other day about Throck- 
morton and the police gossip has annoyed me 
exceedingly. You do not credit the report, do 
you?” 

“ Certainly not, sir,” Wendell answered 
promptly and earnestly. 

“ Do you know whether the police have any 
substantial ground for such suspicions?” 

“I am quite sure they have not; that is, noth- 
ing that would stand the test of a review in 
court; but — ” And here Wendell stopped. He 
wanted to tell the judge just what he knew, and 
wanted to show him the handkerchief and the 
check,* and leave him to make his own infer- 


128 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


ences. But was this the best time for that? So 
he hesitated, and the judge said: 

“ But what?” 

“Only this, Judge: the police have some 
circumstantial evidence that looks ugly lor 
Throckmorton; but his unblemished character 
will outweigh that in your mind, as it does in 
mine.” 

“Perhaps; but I would like to do the weigh- 
ing myself.” 

“ Most certainly.” 

“Will you put me in possession of the evi- 
dence, that I may see for myself what there is 
in it?” 

Wendell blushed and hesitated, finally re- 
marking in a deprecatory manner: 

“I can; but it would savor a little of tale- 
bearing.” 

Instantly the judge applied the words to him- 
self, and understood them to be a reproof to 
him for prying into a matter of that kind. Wen- 
dell Morrison rebuking Judge Tracy? He 
flushed visibly, and was greatly agitated as he 
stood looking out the window. 

Wendell correctly interpreted these signs as 
evidence of offended dignity, and he made haste 
to repair the damage his inconsiderate speech 
had wrought. 

“I beg pardon, Judge. You are justly en- 


A PLAUSIBLE PLEA. 


129 


titled to all the information I have; and since 
you have asked it, I should not have hinted at 
such a construction of my telling you what I 
know; for your relations, in a business way, 
with Throckmorton are such as to justify the 
closest scrutiny of his every act by you.” 

Wendell was pleased with the turn the con- 
versation had taken ; for he could now unbosom 
himself to the judge as a friend and confidant, 
and not as the bearer of an evil report. If he 
pressed him, he would tell all. 

“Well?” said the judge, seating himself with 
his overcoat and hat on. 

“Haven’t you been to dinner?” Wendell 
asked, when he noted this movement. 

“Not yet.” 

“ Well, I will be brief. In the first place — ” 

At that instant the door opened, and Miss 
Josie stepped in hurriedly. 

“Why, papa, we were so anxious about you. 
We thought something awful must have hap- 
pened. John said he saw you at the office win- 
dow just at dinner-time, and we have waited 
two hours, and you are not home yet. Nothing 
would do but I should come myself and see 
what is the matter. I am glad there is noth- 
ing serious. Another important case, I sup- 
pose,” nodding to Mr. Morrison, as she con- 
cluded her rapid speech, and then glancing 


30 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


from one to the other for an answer to her sug- 
gestion. 

“ Yes,” the judge said, taking his daughter’s 
arm and moving toward the door, <‘a very per- 
plexing case, I assure you.” And then to Mor- 
rison he said, as he stood in the door a moment, 
“Think up all the points, and let me know 
about them when I come back.” 

“Very well, sir,” Wendell said, and was 
alone again. 

“ I have greatly misjudged that young man,” 
Judge Tracy said, as he drove home in the 
sleigh with his daughter. “He has depth and 
breadth I never dreamed of, and for acute and 
swift analysis he is remarkable.” 

“If he was not so fast in other ways, and of 
such an undesirable reputation outside of his 
business life,” she said, with a doubtful shaking 
of her head. 

“But he may have been misjudged in that 
as in his legal attainments and abilities.” 

“Hardly! Everybody knows — How do — 
do! — that he is the sorrow of his mother’s life.” 

“Who was that?” the judge asked, looking 
back to see to whom Josie had spoken so cor- 
dially. 

“That was Thad. He hardly recognized me 
at all. I don’t believe he saw me until I 
spoke.” 


A PLAUSIBLE PLEA. 


131 

“Saw you, perhaps, but did not want you to 
see him.” 

“Why so?” she asked, blushing. 

“O, he is in deep water, I hear.” 

“In what way?” 

“O,” said the judge, hesitatingly and eva- 
sively, “some legal matters.” 

“O!” said Josie, relieved at once. “He can 
take care of himself in all legal matters, I am 
sure. He is going to make a first-class lawyer, 
isn’t he, papa, don’t you think?” 

“Hard to tell. Yes, I guess so; that is, he 
is a hard student, and is a close thinker. Can 
never be a match for Morrison, though. He 
does very well as a newspaper plodder.” 

“I shouldn’t want him to match Wendell in 
some things.” 

“By the way, Josie, do not let matters reach 
a crisis between you and Throckmorton until 
you talk to me.” 

“Why, Papa Tracy! Can you not trust 
mamma and me together on such matters?” 

“Some things your mother needs the counsel 
of men of the world on, Josie.” 

“You are just teasing me. I know you.” 

“I am in dead earnest, Josie.” 

“See mamma!” 

With this she bounded up the steps and to 
her room, gayly singing, her heart made light 


132 


AN ODD FELLOW . 


by the thought that her father had even 
jokingly alluded to a possible alliance between 
herself and Thaddeus. Reach a crisis! Indeed, 
that had been reached and passed ! He was 
her accepted lover, though the formal engage- 
ment had been made but very recently, and her 
mother did not know ot that. 


XI. 

CONSIDERING THE EVIDENCE. 

u FT is madness, Morrison,” Judge Tracy said, 
ij- when he returned from dinner, and the two 
lawyers were in their private office, “to suppose 
that Thaddeus Throckmorton is privy to such 
nefarious business as housebreaking. Unless the 
evidence you have to submit is clear and con- 
vincing, I will at once take steps to relieve him 
of the suspicions you have mentioned.” 

What had wrought the change in the judge’s 
mind? Thaddeus’s name had not been men- 
tioned since he left his daughter at the foot of 
the stairs. 

It was Throckmorton’s record for faithfulness, 
fearlessness, for rectitude and righteousness, that 
had pleaded so effectually with the great lawyer. 

“ That is true, Judge. At any rate, we are 
bound to believe every man innocent until he is 
proved to be guilty,” Morrison said, heartily. 

“Well, begin at the beginning, and give me 
the facts just as they have come to your 
knowledge.” 

“In the same order?” Morrison asked, sur- 
prised at the request, for he had jotted down the 
facts in the order of their force, intending to 

U3 


10 


134 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


make the evidence cumulative, and was hardly 
ready to give them to the judge one by one in 
the order of their occurrence. But he dared not 
disregard the request, so he said: 

“You know the night we caught the burglar 
in your house?’’ 

“You mean the night we didn’t catch him.” 

“Yes,” laughing. “The night we tried to 
catch him.” 

“Yes; what of that?” 

“You remember the fellow wore a handker- 
chief as a mask?” 

“Yes, and I remember that you snatched it off 
his face.” 

“Well, here is that handkerchief!” handing it 
to the judge for examination. 

The judge took it, and scrutinized its texture. 

“Look at the corners for a name,” Morrison 
said, carelessly. 

“Yes; here is a name,” looking at it carefully 
through his glasses, “‘Thaddeus Throckmorton.’ 
That is plain enough.” 

The judge put the handkerchief aside on his 
desk. 

“Let me take the handkerchief,” Morrison 
said, reaching out for it. 

“After a while. I may want it.” 

“O, excuse me! But I would like to have it 
when you are done with it. I — of course, it is 


CONSIDERING THE EVIDENCE. 


135 


nothing; but I thought I would keep it as a 
trophy of that night’s adventure.” 

“ I see. Does Thaddeus know you have this 
handkerchief?” 

“Yes; well, that is, I suppose he does. He 
ought to.” 

“Did you tell him?” 

“No; but then he knows all about the affair; 
had a full account of it in the Bamier , and men- 
tioned the handkerchief as in my possession.” 

“I see. Well, what next?” 

“You remember Mr. Dysander’s fright, and 
how he thought he had a burglar there, in his 
house?” 

“Yes; and found out it was only an effigy of 
his own clothes.” 

“Well, the police have a different theory. 
They think some one was really in the house.” 

“So I have heard; but that has nothing to 
do with this case.” 

“I hope not. Well, that night Thaddeus was 
seen at Tingleman’s.” 

“Very well; then what?” 

“The next day, or a little while after, this 
check turned up in Tingleman’s hands.” 

Morrison handed the judge the check Thad- 
deus had given Mrs. Tingleman to buy Christ- 
mas presents for her children. 

“I see. How did you get it?” 


136 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“Billy Barnwell brought it to me to cash.” 

“And where did he get it?” 

“Of Tingleman.” 

“Who is Tingleman?” 

“A suspicious character about town.” 

“Did you present this check at the bank for 
the currency?” 

“No. I haven’t needed the money, and so 
just kept it.” 

“Do you need the money now?” 

“No.” 

“I will keep the check. Here is a ten-dollar 
bill.” 

Before Morrison could protest, the judge had 
pocketed the check, and had put a ten-dollar 
bill in his hand. 

“What other facts have you?” 

“Tingleman has been seen at Throckmorton’s 
house.” 

“Yes; go on.” 

“ And Thad has been seen at Tingleman’s 
house at all hours in the night.” 

“Yes; go on.” 

“The police say it is common street-talk that 
his connection with Tingleman is suspicious.” 

“What is Tingleman? What does he do?” 

“A night-watchman at the lumber-yard.” 

“What evidence have you that he is a bad 
character?” 


CONSIDERING THE EVIDENCE. 


137 


“Only his record.” 

“And what is that?” 

“A thief that has served a term in the pen- 
itentiary.” 

“You know that?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then you depend on his record for an esti- 
mate of his character?” 

“Principally; but it is known also that he is 
profligate, generally.” 

“Now, Morrison, you are too good a lawyer 
not to know that such evidence as you give 
here would not convict a man in any court in 
the nation.” 

“I know that, Judge.” 

“This handkerchief was found on the face ot 
a burglar; but you do not pretend to say the 
burglar was Throckmorton ?” 

“Certainly not; but it shows a connection be- 
tween the burglar and the owner of the handker- 
chief. Whether remote or intimate remains to 
be seen.” 

“Nonsense, Morrison. It shows no such 
thing. Suppose this burglar had stolen my 
watch that night. Suppose he then went to 
your house, and when you grappled with him he 
dropped my watch, and you picked it up. Would 
you argue from that that I, in any sense, was re- 
sponsible for his acts? Could my watch in his 


138 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


possession connect me suspiciously with his 
operations?” 

“ Certainly not, when it should be generally 
known that your house had been burglarized ; for 
that would explain the presence of your watch 
with the burglar. But has Throckmorton’s house 
been burglarized? If so, that will explain the 
handkerchief.” 

“Not that I know of; but at most this is but 
a circumstance.” 

“ Very true. That is all I claim for it.” 

“Very well; admit that. But how can you 
connect Throckmorton with the affair at L,y- 
sander’s house? for I see that is the intent of 
what you say.” 

“Just this way: L,et it be admitted that Tin- 
gleman was the burglar at your house, and let it 
be supposed that he was the burglar at Lysan- 
der’s ; then it follows that the handkerchief and 
the check are links in the same chain that con- 
nects Throckmorton with Tingleman’s opera- 
tions.” 

“But was Tingleman the burglar at my 
house?” 

“That is to be proven.” 

“Where is Tingleman now?” 

“Gone West !” 

“The judge was silent and thoughtful. 

“Where? Do you know?” 


CONSIDERING THE EVIDENCE. 


139 


“No; only that he bought a ticket to St. 
Ivouis ; or rather a ticket was bought for him.” 

“Who bought it?” 

“Throckmorton.” 

“You know that?” 

“ I know it on the strength of the ticket 
agent’s word. He told it to me innocently, as 
showing how benevolent Throckmorton is. He 
is a firm friend of Thad’s, you know.” 

“Yes, I know.” 

“Now, Judge, all this looks bad for Thad. It 
makes people talk. Such facts do not convince 
me, nor even arouse my suspicions; for I believe 
Throckmorton is all right, and could explain the 
whole matter.” 

“Why not go to him for an explanation?” 

“Ah, there’s the rub! To go to him for an 
explanation is to charge him with guilt. I do 
not want that task. Do you?” 

“No; I do not.” 

“It is assuming that he is guilty, you see, and 
asking him to prove his innocence, instead of as- 
suming he is innocent, and waiting for some one 
to prove his guilt !” 

“I see; but why do you keep his handker- 
chief, and why did you not cash this check at 
the bank?” 

“Are they not safer in my hands? Might not 
some unscrupulous person get hold of them, and 


140 AN ODD FELLOW. 

the facts connected with them, and use them to 
Thad’s hurt? All this smoke will blow over, by 
and by, and I am keeping these things quiet.” 

“I see. Well, then, you would like to keep 
them for Thad’s sake?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, I will return them after a little. The 
meantime I will not use them improperly.” 

“O, of course not.” 

And so the interview ended. 

Judge Tracy was glad he had discovered, so 
opportunely and so early, the exposure that 
threatened Thaddeus. 

Wendell Morrison was glad he had so suc- 
cessfully sown seed of distrust in the mind and 
heart of Judge Tracy, and at the same time had 
made it appear that he was sacredly guarding 
the character of Throckmorton. He was quite 
certain Judge Tracy had been very favorably im- 
pressed with his disinterestedness. 


XII. 


A FLOOD OF LIGHT. 

T T was vain for Thaddeus to attempt to content 

himself in the office that afternoon. What 
he heard at Professor Heartbreaks’s school dis- 
turbed him more than he cared to own. 

If, as he had been warned, there was a scheme 
a-brewing to ruin him, it could certainly be 
traced to Morrison ; for no other person in 
Bratnbleville could have a sufficient motive to 
work against him. 

Suppose Morrison should poison Judge Tracy’s 
mind against him ! Suppose the judge should 
forbid his visiting Josie ! 

The more he pondered the possibilities in the 
case, the stronger grew his desire to tell Josie 
himself what his enemies were doing. Seizing 
his hat, he rushed out of the office, and hurried 
toward the judge’s residence, fearing all the way 
that he might miss finding Josie at home. 

“Is Miss Josie at home?” he asked the maid 
who opened the door. 

“I will see. Walk into the parlor, please,” 
said the maid, and turned to go up-stairs. 

“Miss Josie is at home, and will be down in 

141 


142 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


just one minute,” called a familiar voice from 
above stairs. 

“She is at home, and will be down in a 
minute,” said the maid, turning about and hand- 
ing Thad his card, smiling very slightly, as if she 
understood more than she would have him know. 

“I am so glad to see you,” Miss Josie said, 
in less than a minute, as she came into the 
parlor. “Papa said you were in trouble.” 

She sat down right near him, and continued : 
“Can you trust me with your trouble? I should 
so much like to share it with you!” 

“Your father said I was in trouble?” ex- 
claimed Thaddeus, in surprise. 

“Yes. As we drove home at noon he re- 
marked that you were in trouble about some law 
matter.” 

“I do not understand,” he answered, with 
strange forebodings. 

“But are you not? If you are not, excuse 
me for saying anything about it. But what he 
said has made me want to see you so much, and 
I am glad you came up.” 

“ Josie, I am troubled; but I am not in trouble 
that I know of. But I am distressed to think 
your father should have mentioned it to you. 
Did he tell you anything?” 

“Nothing at all. Do not let that worry you. 
Excuse my indiscretion in mentioning it.” 




























“Why, what has happened now?” she asked, in sobered 
earnestness. — Page 143. 


A FLOOD OF LIGHT. 


143 


“I will tell, Josie. Morrison is doing all he 
can to injure me. He is your father’s partner, 
and a friend of the family, and my friend’s son; 
and perhaps I ought not to say so, but I am 
sure he is. I am not afraid of anything he can 
do against me in a business way, or in politics; 
but I am afraid of what he may do here — in 
your home — against me !” 

“Why, what has happened now?” she asked, 
in sobered earnestness. 

“Nothing happened, Josie; but very much 
talked about.” 

Then he told her all he knew of the rumors 
and suspicions afloat. When he had finished 
the recital, she looked up and said: 

“Is that all?” 

“All! Josie, is that not enough?” 

“ Enough as to quantity — indeed, too much 
as to quality. But, Thad, could you fear such a 
mass of silly gossip would influence me, or any 
of us?” 

“ But, Josie, it has influenced your father.” 

“Thad Throckmorton! How dare you! And 
in his own house, too!” 

“But did you not say he said I was in trouble? 
And he must have referred to this ; for this is 
all that troubles me!” 

“Well,” said Josie, “he may have referred to 
this ; but it did not make a sufficient impression 


144 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


on his mind to disturb the usual flow of good 
humor at dinner. Now I will tell you what he 
did say about you, just after we passed you, 
coming home.” 

“I shall be glad to hear.” 

“He warned me not to let a crisis arise in our 
affairs — yours and mine ; think of it — without 
consulting him ! That is just as good as ap- 
proval, you know.” 

But it did not appear so to Thad. It seemed 
more like a prophesied refusal. His heart sank 
within him, and he said, sadly: 

“I am afraid not!” 

“Yes, it is. Does not mamma know? And 
is she not satisfied?” 

“Does your mother know all — our engage- 
ment — and everything?” 

“Not exactly that; but she knows what I 
think of you — that is, pretty nearly knows — and 
I know what she thinks of you, and you may just 
rest easy.” 

“Well, you comfort me, to say the least. In 
fact, after telling you all about it, I am almost per- 
suaded myself that I am worse scared than hurt.” 

“Indeed you are! You ought to hear Uncle 
Lycurgus praise you. He looks upon you as his 
deliverer.” 

“Though I only rescued him from his own 
clothes !” 


A FLOOD OF LIGHT. 


*45 


“For the time, though, it was a real burglar; 
and he acknowledges — privately, of course — that 
he was paralyzed with fear.” 

“It was too funny!” 

“His wife is your eulogist, too; for, as you 
say, Uncle Lycurgus has been ‘ rescued from his 
clothes,’ and aunt is correspondingly happy.” 

“ How ’s that?” 

“Well, he has never had those garments on 
since that night, and has given orders to have 
them handed over to the first tramp, or the first 
rag-man, that comes along. He can not endure 
the thought of them. He has hired a hostler 
to care for his cow and horses, and all is lovely 
there.” 

“But, Josie,” said Thaddeus, rising to go, 
“tell your mother all — right away, please. I do 
not want her to — to — be unprepared to — to — say 
a good word for me, if your father should hap- 
pen to be influenced by Morrison’s gossip.” 

“You silly boy !” 

“Please!” 

“Why not you ?” 

“I will, of course, in due time, and with be- 
coming formality ; but you pave the way.” 

“And papa, too?” 

“Yes — no — yes. I do n’t care. No /” 

That night, when Judge Tracy came home, 
his wife had something to tell him, and he had 


146 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


something to tell her. She sought him in his 
study after tea. 

“Well, my dear, Thaddeus Throckmorton was 
here this afternoon.” 

“Aha ! Rather frequent caller, is n’t he ?” 

“Rather; and is likely to be more frequent.” 

“How’s that?” quickly, and with a startled 
expression. 

“He has offered himself to Josie.” 

“And she is waiting our approval?” 

“Yes— and no. She has accepted him.” 

“Mrs. Tracy!” 

“Are you surprised? I am not; nor dis- 
pleased. I have expected as much. You surely 
could see how matters were drifting.” 

“But let me tell you, my dear. Some things 
have come to my ears to-day that I did not know 
before. If true, the matter between him and 
Josie must end here and now.” 

“Judge Tracy !” 

“It is startling and terrible.” ♦ 

“Do tell me! I seem like one in a dream.” 

“Here are the facts. See what you can make 
of them. I have my own theory. I will see 
what is yours.” 

Then Judge Tracy went over all of Morri- 
son’s story, exhibiting the handkerchief and the 
check, and repeating Morrison’s arguments and 
reasons for retaining the articles. When he was 


A FLOOD OF LIGHT. 


147 


done, his wife, having listened with bated breath 
and kindling spirit to the recital, said, very de- 
liberately and with great feeling : 

“That all proves one thing, at least.” 

“Well ?” 

“That Morrison is a designing and crafty 
young man.” 

“Tooks so,” said the judge, relieved to find 
his wife’s opinion coinciding with his own. 

“Fortunately, the handkerchief proves an- 
other — or, at least, arouses a strong supposition.” 

“And that is ?” 

“That Tingleman was the thief in our house 
that night.” 

“ How so ?” 

“Well, it was his family that Josie and I went 
to see, at Mr. Outwright’s request. It was for 
them that the ladies did so much. You remem- 
ber my telling about it?” 

“You tell me so many things of that kind, 
my dear, that I really can not remember them 
all. No, I do not recall this particular case.” 

“Very well. We were there repeatedly. We 
found, on our first visit, that Thaddeus had been 
there before us.” 

“Thad?” 

“Yes, Thad. Now be still, and let me tell 
you. Thaddeus had been there, and the old 
lady, who had charge of the family, was loud in 


148 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


protestation of admiration of him. She pro- 
duced this very handkerchief, or one just like 
it — I saw the name then — and told me how 
Thad had with it wiped Mrs. Tingleman’s face 
and month, and then, of course, left it. He 
could do nothing else ; but she thought his leav- 
ing so fine a handkerchief a wonderfully gen- 
erous act. She made much of it, and that is 
why I happen to know about it. So, you see, 
it points to Tingleman, but not to Thad.” 

“I see!” said the judge, with a broad smile. 
“ But the check?” 

“The check? L,et me ask you, my dear, if 
you gave any poor family a ten-dollar Christmas 
surprise ?” 

“Not that I can now recall.” 

“Very well; but that is just what Thaddeus 
Throckmorton did for the Tingleman family. 
That I know. I helped buy the articles myself, 
and was given ten dollars to spend. I did not 
put this amount all into toys for children, you 
may be sure. I thought it a bit of extravagance 
for Thaddeus, and inquired why he did it. From 
what I could learn, it was out of pure benev- 
olence.” 

“I see! But about his being there at all 
hours in the night?” 

“Watching beside Mrs. Tingleman. He was 
her only consoler in her last hours.” 


A FLOOD OF LIGHT. 


149 


“Noble fellow!” said the judge, impulsively. 

“Indeed he is; but I am afraid he lacks care- 
fulness in assuming responsibility.” 

“How so?” 

“Well, he has taken Tingleman’s children 
home to his mother’s, and is caring for them as 
if they were his brothers.” 

“Do you suppose he knows what suspicions 
attach to Tingleman?” 

“ Perhaps not ; but if he did, that would not 
deter him from lending a helping hand.” 

“So! so! Instead of being a companion of 
thieves, he has been a quiet and noble worker 
among the poor?” 

“Nothing less; and, as often as he has been 
here, he has not mentioned the matter one way 
or the other. Nor have we — Josie or I ; but I 
think I will now.” 

“But about your brother’s case?” 

“Pure hallucination — nothing more; noth- 
ing less.” 

“So I think.” 

“Now, what is your opinion? You said you 
had one.” 

“That Tliad is being made the victim of cir- 
cumstances. What you tell me confirms me in 
that opinion.” 

“You will see that Morrison is set right in 
the matter?” 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


150 


“I certainly will.” 

“Now, as to Josie and Thaddeus?” 

“They have my blessing!” 

“You know Thad is ambitious to excel 
in law?” 

“ Certainly ; but I really believe his field is 
that of journalism — perhaps literary work. Still, 
if his tastes are decidedly for the law, perhaps 
that is best.” 

“ There would be no chance for him in your 
office, would there?” 

“Not while Morrison is there. I am sure 
there would be friction.” 

“ Is the arrangement with Morrison for a 
definite period ?” 

“ For five years, unless mutually dissolved 
sooner.” 

“ My dear, can you not make it to his inter- 
est to dissolve?” 

“ Not yet. He is a useful man in his line.” 

“And a dangerous man, my dear.” 

“ In what way?” 

“ He will sacrifice his best friends to his own 
ambition. I can read him like a book.” 

“ May I come in?” 

“ Certainly,” said the judge, rising to greet 
Josie, who had knocked timidly at the door of 
the study. 

“ Take my blessing, daughter !” 


A FLOOD OF LIGHT. 


151 

He embraced her fondly, and kissed her fore- 
head reverently. 

“ Has mamma told you?” 

“ Indeed she has — much that I never knew 
before.” 

“ Well, I have .something awful to tell you 
both,” with a well-assumed anxious air, “ and 
then, may be, you will withdraw your blessing.” 

Then Josie related, with very great partic- 
ularity, what Thaddeus had told her that after- 
noon, her father and mother listening, with af- 
fected surprise and dismay, until the end was 
reached. 

“And still you have faith in him?” the judge 
said, with a frown. 

“Yes, papa; why not? What can idle tales 
avail against a good name?” 

“That is true, daughter. ‘A good name is 
rather to be chosen than great riches.’ Fortu- 
nately, your mother and I can clear all that in a 
few words.” 

Then the matter was gone over again from 
beginning to end. 

Until a late hour they talked, and the judge 
related many reminiscences of his acquaintance 
with Thaddeus’s father, always ending with the 
remark : 

“And the son is growing up to be just 
like him.” 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


r 5 2 


“ Poor man !” Mrs. Tracy finally remarked, 
with a heavy sigh, “ his end was very tragic and 
sad. I do not see how his wife lived through it ! 
I could not.” 

“ Please, mamma, do not mention it,” Josie 
said, pleadingly. “ I am afraid I will dream 
about it all night.” 

“ I beg pardon, daughter ! I will say no 
more.” 

“ When Thad comes, to-morrow night, 
mamma, may I bring him to your room, and 
will you tell him how sure you are that he is 
good and true and noble ?” 

“ With pleasure, daughter.” 


XIII. 


PLOTTING MISCHIEF. 

W ENDELL MORRISON sat in his office- 
chair one night, with his feet elevated 
against the window-casing, almost hidden in the 
cloud of tobacco-smoke his persistent and rapid 
pulling at a fragrant cigar had made, when Billy 
Barnwell, the chief of police, entered uncere- 
moniously. 

“ Got a mate to that?” he said, as he drew a 
chair alongside of the young lawyer, and ele- 
vated his feet against the other side of the same 
window. The gas was burning brightly, and 
the prospect of a free smoke of the very best 
cigar that money could buy, had attracted the 
chief from the street below. 

Without replying, and without shifting his 
position, Morrison took a cigar from his vest- 
pocket, and handed it to Billy, and gave him his 
own cigar as a light. 

“ Thanks ! Regular twenty-five-centers !” 
Billy said, after a puff or two at the fragrant 
weed. 

Morrison puffed away, without deigning a re- 
ply, and Billy, for awhile, silently smoked on. 

153 


i54 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“ Dullest day for a month !” exclaimed the 
policeman. 

If Morrison heard the remark, he did not 
deem it worthy of notice ; and the two con- 
tinued to make the thick smoke thicker about 
their heads. 

“ Came pretty near running in two tramps, 
but they got out of the city before I heard they 
were here.” 

Morrison evidently was not interested in the 
arresting of tramps. 

“ Charlie Christie has put in a new line of 
cigars that beat anything ever offered here for 
the money. Regular twenty-five-centers, Ha- 
vana-filled, gilt-edge, A No. i — only three for a 
half. Dandies !” 

But Morrison was satisfied with the cigars he 
had, and did not so much as look toward Billy, 
much less make any inquiry about the new brand 
of cigars. And they smoked on. 

“ Well, guess I must go now. Andy will be 
coming up to look for me.” 

Had he been talking to himself, Billy could 
not have had less said to him than was said that 
night by Morrison. He was smoking when he 
came in, and he was smoking when he went out. 
Such fits of sullen silence were common with 
Morrison, and Billy had learned to wait his 
mood. 


PLOTTING MISCHIEF. 


155 


Just after Billy went out, a heavy step, with 
a quick stride, was heard in the hall. The door 
was flung open, and Sam Slimkins entered. 

“Where there is so much smoke must be 
some fire. What great scheme are you planning 
now ?” 

“ Trying to get myself together. I am all 
broke up, Sam.” 

Morrison straightened up in his chair, and 
wheeled it about so as to face Slimkins. 

“What has gone wrong?” 

“Everything. You know the check?” 

“ Yes.” 

“Well, Judge Tracy got hold of it, and it 
turns out that Mrs. Tracy knows all about how 
Tingleman happened to have it, and that ends 
that!” 

“Well, I never thought it was very much of 
a string, anyway.” 

“ But it was, I tell you. It was a trump card. 
You remember the handkerchief?” 

“Yes.” 

“That is gone, too. Mrs. Tracy found out 
how Tingleman got it, and is full of praises for 
Throcky on account of it.” 

“All child’s play, anyway, Morrison! I tell 
you, if you mean business, get up and go at 
Throcky in a business way. This ‘still hunt’ 
way is nonsense.” 


56 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“That ’s all you know about it!” 

“ I know all about it! Where would you be 
to-day but for me?” 

“Where would you be but for me?” Morrison 
said, angrily. 

“ What have you ever done for me that you 
had not been paid for in advance?” Slimkins 
retorted. 

“What have you ever done for me that you 
didn’t demand dollars for?” 

“Who cornered the floaters for you at the 
last election, and sent you to the Legislature?” 

“Who gave you ten dollars a head for every 
one you said you voted for me, when they cost no 
more than two dollars apiece on the average?” 

“Well, it was your bargain!” 

“And your gain!” 

“ Your gain ! You could n’t afford to be 
beaten for a few thousand dollars.” 

“Well, let that drop. You are excited.” 

“I should say, let it drop. Who is excited? 
You; that’s all. What has got into you? You 
are as cross as a bear that has lost a whelp.” 

“I told you I was all broken up.” 

“Over that little check, and the silly hand- 
kerchief business.” 

“Let up, will you?” 

“Be a man, and I will.” 

“What would you have me do?” 


PLOTTING MISCHIEF. 


157 


“Declare war on Throcky! War to the knife, 
and knife to the hilt!” 

“ I dare not. He is too strong. I must 
weaken him somewhere. He is all conscience. 
If I could get a knife in his honor somewhere, he 
would go to his knees at once.” 

“ That ’s it ! Come out in direct assault. Let 
fly an arrow. You will not have to prove any- 
thing. He will have to explain. Of course, the 
falser it is, the less likely he will be to notice it ; 
but the people will remember it. Get Monmos- 
kin to let you squib his paper for him. Then 
give it to Throcky. See?” 

“O yes; I see. Very nice for you to talk. 
The law can not touch you, even if he should 
charge libel against you. With me it is different. 
He could collect from me any damages the court 
might allow. You know that. It is easy enough 
for you to talk that way.” 

“Very well, have it so. Then pay me, and / 
will make it hot for him. I will make him think 
he is in purgatory every hour in the day. He is 
as easily hurt as a child.” 

“What would you do?” 

“For pay? How much?” 

“Let me know your plan first. I will not fix 
a price on work undone and unknown.” 

“Where does he stand in your way? Let 
me know just what you are aiming at?” 


58 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“At the State Senate, and then Congress. 
Next fall to the Senate, and four years after- 
ward to Congress. I do not care anything for 
the Senate except as a stone to step on to 
Congress.” 

“But does he want to go to the Senate?” 

“ Of course, and, more than that, half the 
party want him there. I can go back to the 
Lower House ; but that is no promoter. I am 
tired of it, anyway.” 

“ Why not let him go to the Lower House, and 
you to the Senate?” 

“ Fool !” 

“ You are another !” 

“ I say you are ! Only two counties in the 
district, and take both senator and represent- 
ative from the same county ! I say you are a 
fool!” 

“ Go to the dogs with your ambition — Senate, 
Congress, and all !” 

Sam arose, and stalked out of the office. Mor- 
rison smoked on. He knew Sam would come 
back. There was a chance to make money out 
of the scheme, and that would bring him. Sam 
went as far as the head of the stair, and then 
returned. Resuming his seat, he said, as if noth- 
ing had happened. 

“ I will make him so sick of politics that he • 
will wish he had not been born !” 


PLOTTING MISCHIEF. 


159 


“How?” 

“Through the Gazette. Old Monmoskin will 
print anything for money.” 

“ Well, go ahead, and I will see what you 
can do.” 

“ For how much ?” 

“ Well,” — thoughtfully — “ $300, if nominated ; 
$500 more, if elected !” 

“ Go away ! Send for your Cheap Johns. No 
such bait catches me !” 

“ Well, make it even money, if elected.” 

“A thousand?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Good-night. Look out for the next Ga- 
zette /” 

That week the Gazette office needed, for im- 
mediate use, more type of a certain kind than 
was in stock. Mr. Monmoskin deliberated 
awhile as to what he could do in the emergency, 
and finally adopted the suggestion of his fore- 
man, who said: 

“ Why not ask the Banner for a font ? We 
might return the favor some time. Thad would 
let you have it.” 

“ O yes ; Thad would let me have it. That ’s 
his way. But it is humiliating to ask him.” 

“If you don’t, you lose the job and twenty 
dollars clear cash. Is your pride worth twenty 
dollars a day to you?” 


i6o AN ODD FELLOW \ 

“ Well, send over and seed’ 

“Reynolds,” said the foreman, “go over to 
the Banner office, and borrow a font of long 
primer. Tell Thaddeus we will return the favor 
on demand.” 

“ Certainly ! Certainly ! Glad to let them 
have it,” said the young editor, when Reynolds 
made known his errand. “ See ! You can not 
carry both cases. I will send one of the boys 
with you .to carry the caps.” 

“What is to happen now, do you reckon?” 
asked Thad’s foreman, as the type was carried 
out of the office. 

“ Peace, I hope. I am tired of this bitterness, 
and all this bickering. I suppose the Gazette 
will notice the Banner now. It never has done 
it, you know.” 

That week the Gazette did notice the Ban- 
ner — or rather the Banner editor. The general 
public did not understand the item; but Thad 
did, and so did Wendell — and Sam Slimkins — 
and the police — and, through them, many others 
of the baser sort. 

When Thad read the item he could scarcely 
believe his eyes ; but there were the words in 
plain type, and the implication they conveyed 
was a dagger in his heart. 


XIV. 


BUILDING ON THE SAND. 

ENDEEE was well pleased with Slim- 



^ ^ kins’s first movement against Throck- 
morton through the Gazette. It was a covert 
attack that the victim could not meet without 
drawing upon himself a storm of evil surmisings. 
There was nothing left to him but silent endur- 
ance of a cruel aspersion of his character. There 
was the barest margin of fact in the charge made 
against him by the Gazette item, and any one 
acquainted with the facts would exonerate 
Throckmorton ; but the facts could not be given 
to the public without implicating innocent per- 
sons. Thaddeus writhed in agony. He could 
not even go to his mother for sympathy ; and as 
for telling Josie — that was not to be thought of 
for a minute. 

Wendell left Slimkins to his work, and gave 
his attention to other plans. He had been made 
partner with Judge Tracy. What should hinder 
a marriage with Judge Tracy’s daughter? In 
time, if that could be consummated, the fortunes 
of the two families would be one, and all of it in 
his hands! Bright visions of wealth and power ! 


i 62 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


The only obstacle in the way was Miss Josie 
herself. 

If he conld gain her heart, or even her hand 
without her heart — for “ hearts are plentiful,” he 
said — parental consent would follow as a matter 
of course ; for could Judge Tracy deny his own 
partner so reasonable a request? 

Sam Sliinkins could be trusted to carry on a 
vigorous warfare against Thaddeus as Wendell’s 
political rival ; but he would turn his whole at- 
tention to winning the hand of Miss Josie. He 
did not consider Thad a rival there. How could 
he be ? Absurd ! 

Wendell had had but little to do with the 
society with which Thaddeus and Josie mingled, 
and where they were chief actors and ever wel- 
come guests. For this reason he did not know 
or suspect the close friendship of the two which 
had culminated in the engagement sanctioned 
heartily by the judge and his wife. 

Wendell was not ignorant of the art of mak- 
ing friends, nor unacquainted with methods 
necessary to ingratiate one’s self in the affections 
of another. 

“I will do it this very night!” he said, closing 
his desk with a slam, locking it with a snap, 
and shoving back his chair with a force alto- 
gether uncommon. “Happy thought!” he ex- 
claimed, half aloud, as he passed out of the 


BUILDING ON THE SAND. 


63 


office to hurry home for supper. “The boys 
will find a cold reception this night,” he added, 
with a chuckle, as he went down the stairs two 
steps at a time. 

Mrs. Morrison’s heart leaped with joy when 
Wendell announced his intention at the close of 
supper. He rarely confided to her any of his 
plans, and never left any word when he went 
from home as to where he was going, or at 
what hour he should return, or whether he 
should return at all. 

“Mother,” he said, smiling blandly, “I think 
I will call 011 Jennie Jessup to-night. I haven’t 
been there for many a month. Do you think 
they will be surprised to see me?” 

“ Surprised ! I should say so ; and delighted 
as well. I am so glad you are going. Your Aunt 
Mary was here this week, and asked after you 
very particularly. Do let her think you come to 
see her, too.” 

“Aunt Mary is all right,” said Wendell, re- 
calling the many happy hours he had spent 
there in his boyhood days. “And Jennie is a 
real bright, entertaining, even lovable girl. I 
have quite neglected her for a few years.” 

“So you have, Wendell,” his mother said, 
thrilled by the thought of Wendell’s deliberately 
and voluntarily choosing to call on his cousin to 
spend the evening, instead of passing the night 


164 


AN ODD FELLOW . 


with the rough characters generally chosen as 
his companions. “And Jennie feels it, too. She 
does not lack for company; but she has always 
been proud of you, and you may well be proud 
of her.” 

“Well, I am going to reform, mother,” Wen- 
dell replied, rising to go to his room. 

An hour later he was at his Aunt Mary’s. 
Jennie was ready to go to a temperance-meet- 
ing at the hall, and her mother was to accom- 
pany her. 

“Come right in, cousin. We will not go a 
step,” she said, decidedly, when Wendell ex- 
cused himself, seeing they were attired for the 
street. 

“Suppose you go, and let Wendell go with 
you, and I will stay,” her mother suggested. 
“You know you have a song on the program, 
and it is too bad to disappoint them.” 

“Are you to sing, Cousin Jennie? Then, of 
course, I will go. Have n’t heard you for years 
and years. It will make me a boy again,” he 
said, gayly. 

“Years and years? The idea, Wendell! I 
am not so old as that ! Do I look so aged ?” 

“Judged by your looks, cousin, you are not a 
day over sixteen — or eighteen, at the most. You 
look fresh as a peach, and just as temptingly 
lovely.” 


BUILDING ON THE SAND . 


165 


“Now, you are ridiculing me !” 

“Indeed, I am not. Never was more in 
earnest.” 

“Well, come on. We will be late, I am 
afraid.” 

“ Whew ! What will people say to see me 
at a temperance-meeting?” he said, with a shrug 
of the shoulders. 

“ They will be glad ; but none gladder than 
I, Wendell,” his aunt said, earnestly. 

“ I am not so awful bad, Aunt Mary. I do 
take a glass, now and then ; but it is only to be 
sociable with the boys. I could quit just as 
easy as not.” 

“Come on,” said Jennie, nervously; for she 
feared her mother might say something, in her 
anxiety for Wendell’s reformation, that would 
drive him away from his present favorable atti- 
tude, and together they hastened to the hall. 

His coming to the meeting surprised none 
more delightfully than Thaddeus and Josie ; for 
Thad was chairman, and Miss Josie was secre- 
tary, of the society, under the auspices of which 
the assembly was held. 

At the close of the exercises, while Wendell 
waited for Jennie, who was detained in confer- 
ence with some other members, Miss Josie went 
to him, extended her hand, and said warmly : 

“ I am glad to see you here, Mr. Morrison. 

12 


1 66 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


We feel quite honored when our lawmakers and 
our lawyers attend our conventions.” 

“ Indeed,” he replied, with a profound bow, 
“ any man may well esteem it a privilege to be 
counted as a friend to such people as constitute 
this society. Whether one indorses its principles 
or not, there is no denying the honorable mo- 
tives and pure philanthropy that actuate the 
members.” 

“ Could you not say as much as that from the 
platform at our next regular meeting, a month 
from now, Mr. Morrison ?” 

“ I shall be only too happy to respond to such 
an invitation, Miss Tracy. Remember, I do not 
indorse your principles ; but I do indorse the 
members of the society. How could I do other- 
wise when Miss Tracy and Miss Jessup,” turn- 
ing to his cousin, who had just joined them, 
“ are their representatives?” 

“ Thanks !” said Miss Josie, turning to give 
her secretary’s record to Thaddeus, who advanced 
at that moment to her side. 

Wendell did not deign to notice the young 
editor, making a pretense of assisting Miss Jes- 
sup with her roll of music and a bundle of docu- 
ments she was to carry home, so as to cover from 
all eyes but Thad’s this small but significant slight. 

“ Did he speak to you ?” Josie asked, as they 
passed out of the hall. 


BUILDING ON THE SAND. 


167 


“ No,” said Thad indifferently, though he felt 
keenly the disrespect shown him. 

“ I suppose he was embarrassed by his un- 
usual surroundings, and did not see you,” said 
Josie, apologetically. 

“ Perhaps,” assented Tliaddeus, making an 
effort to appear unconcerned. 

Tliaddeus doubted not that Wendell was con- 
nected in some way with the publication of the 
item in the Gazette , and construed his discour- 
tesy, at this time, as a part of an attempt to dis- 
honor him in small but effectual ways. He felt 
correspondingly depressed. 

Miss Josie was sure the efforts of their society 
were being attended with good results, or, other- 
wise, Wendell Morrison would not have been 
there. She was eager to get home to tell her 
mother the good news. Together they rejoiced, 
and wondered why Thaddeus was not as exult- 
ant as they. 

“ If all our labor for two years past accom- 
plishes nothing more than the reforming of 
Wendell Morrison, I shall be amply repaid,” Miss 
Josie said, with animation, and then asked, 
“ Do n’t you think so, Thad ?” 

“ Indeed that would be a great work,” he 
said, smiling. 

There was corresponding joy at Mrs. Jessup’s 
home. Wendell had praised the program in 


i68 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


unstinted terms, and especially the part Jennie 
had taken. 

“Wendell is to speak next time,” Jennie 
said, when talking the matter over with her 
mother. “ Think of that ! A year ago he could 
not be induced even to attend the meetings. 
Now, he is to be one of our speakers.” 

Wendell was delighted with the outcome of 
that night’s work. He started to enlist his 
cousin Jennie’s sympathy and help, intending 
thereby to pave his way into Josie’s favor ; but 
at one leap he found himself firmly planted on 
the very ground he expected to reach only after 
tedious and difficult approaches. 


XY. 


A PLEASANT PRISON. 


¥ R. CHARLES CHRISTIE loved fast 
horses, and found great pleasure in riding 
behind them ; but his indulgence in such enjoy- 
ment had always been at the expense and whim 
of his many friends who drove swift roadsters. 

He finally concluded to own a rapid traveler 
himself, and at once purchased the finest turn- 
out he could buy in Brambleville, and set about 
finding a horse to match his buggy and his idea 
of what a man of his position should own. 

“ I want something — ha ! ha ! — that will — O ! 
ah ! — pass everything — ha ! ha ! — on the road. I 
do n’t often drive — ha ! ha ! — but when I do, I 
want to go — ha! ha!” he said, confidentially 
and enthusiastically, to Simon Hunter, when 
consulting him. 

“ Let me dell you, Choles,” said Simon, look- 
ing wise, “ id is more imbordend to kooin bawk 
than to go. Ged a horse dat will bring you 
bawk.” 

“ I see — ah ! O ! — I see, Simon ! You — ha ! 
ha ! — are alluding to runaways — ha ! ha ! Well, 
now, Simon — ah ! O ! — I calculate that I can 


AN ODD FELLO'W. 


170 

ride — ha ! ha ! — as fast as any horse can go. 
Ha! ha !” 

“ But, Charlie,” said Captain Thompson, who 
had just stepped into Simon’s store, “ a few 
broken ribs, do n’t you know, is pretty big price 
to pay, do n’t you know, for a ride behind a two- 
forty horse, do n’t you know ? Slow, but sure, 
do n’t you know, is good motto for pleasure- 
riding, don’t you know?” 

But Charlie was not to be frightened out of 
his purpose to have a horse that would pass 
everything on the road. 

He found what he wanted. He bought it of 
a traveling band of Gypsies ! The next after- 
noon he had the horse brought out for a trial 
drive. The buggy was just from the shop, and 
glistened in paint and varnish. The harness 
was new, and silver-tipped. The whip was new. 
The driving-cap, the driving-gloves, and the 
driver — Charlie himself — were all new. 

Captain Thompson and Simon Hunter were 
present to see Charlie off, but both declined an 
invitation to ride with him. 

“ There is one thing, do n’t you know, Charlie, 
that you need to make your turnout complete, 
do n’t you know, and you had better get it right 
away, do n’t you know, before the new wears 
off, do n’t you know ?” 

“Ah! O! what’s that? Ha! ha!” tucking 


A PLEASANT PRISON. 


171 

the robes under his legs, and., picking up the 
lines. 

“A wife, Charlie.” 

“Ah ! O ! Well — ha ! ha ! — may be the turn- 
out will help to get her. Ha ! ha !”. 

The next instant, at the word, the horse was 
off in a rapid trot. When he turned the corner 
of the first block, his pace quickened to a run, 
and Charlie’s friends hurried to the corner to 
see what was to be the result. They were in 
time to catch a glimpse of the buggy-top as it 
disappeared down the street, and saw men stand- 
ing on boxes and climbing into wagons to watch 
the flight of Charlie’s fast horse. 

He passed everything on the road for two 
miles, and tried to pass a walnut-tree that stood 
where two roads crossed, but failed, and left 
Charlie and the buggy in a heap, both badly 
damaged. 

Three broken ribs, a sprained arm, a scalp- 
wound, and innumerable bruises, were Charles 
Christie’s list of hurts, to which ought to be added 
shattered confidence and crushed hopes ; for the 
two last named were the most serious of all. 

Simon Hunter called to see his friend as 
soon as he heard he was at home undergoing 
surgical treatment, arriving just as the doctor 
was departing. 

“ Bretty bad hurt, Charlie, eh?” 


172 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“ Seems so, Simon,” feebly, and with many 
a groan. 

“ You haf blenty dime now to read up on art 
of driving, eh?” 

“ Do n’t want to know.” 

“ Eggsguse me, Charlie ; you must let me 
haf my liddle jokes.” 

“All right, Simon. You must joke for both 
of us. I can’t. 

“ Come, come, Charlie ! You haf lots to be 
glad about.” 

“ Do n’t know. Buggy gone ; horse gone ; 
three ribs gone. Drat the luck !” 

“Suppose you haf had your wife with you, 
Charlie? Think of that once !” 

“If I had had a wife, I wouldn’t have got 
the buggy, nor these hurts,” groaning fear- 
fully. 

“Take the adwice of a friend and brother, 
and get a wile, Charlie. Who is going to care 
for you now? Your mother? May be; but she 
is not a wife.” 

“ Better get well first,” sighing sadly, said 
the injured man. 

“ Delays are dangerous, Charlie. Better swap 
one of your broken ribs lor a wife, eh ?” 

“Simon, do you think any woman on earth 
would even so much as look at me in this con- 
dition — one eye shut, head in bandages, arm in 


A PLEASANT PRISON. 


173 


sling, face swelled, body black and blue ? Simon, 
you are a fool ! Ha ! ha !” 

“ Dere, I will go. Dat is all I waited for. 
You will get well now. I shust wanted to hear 
dat laugh. ‘ Richard ’s himself again,’ as it' 
were. Well, so long ! I will see you again be- 
fore beddime. You know all you haf to do is 
to send for Simon, if you haf not all you want.” 

“ Good-bye, Simon !” 

Mr. Christie’s really elegant home was next 
to that of Mr. Lycurgus Lysander’s, just beyond 
which was Judge Tracy’s. The next house to 
Mr. Christie’s was that of Simon Hunter’s. 
With such surroundings he was not in danger 
of being neglected. His mother presided over 
his home with stately grace, and was wondrous 
kind ; but very quiet and sad in manner and 
conversation. Her son inherited his vivacity 
from his father, and his tenderness from his 
mother. 

“ May I see Mr. Christie?” 

“ Yes, dear,” said Mrs. Christie, rising to meet 
Miss Edith Lysander, as she was shown into her 
room. “ Come with me. He will be delighted 
to see you.” 

The two ascended the stairs where Mr. Chris- 
tie lay in his spacious and richly furnished apart- 
ment. 

“Miss Edith!” he exclaimed, “I am — ah! 


174 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


O! — quite honored — ha! ha! ha! But see — ha! 
ha! — my right arm is in this sling, and — ah! 
O ! — I must give you my left hand — ha ! ha! ha!” 

“I am glad you have a hand left to give me, 
Mr. Christie. I am so — ” 

“Very good! Very good! Quite good, in- 
deed — ha! ha! Miss Edith, I did not know — 
ah! O! — you were given to puns — ha! ha! ha!” 

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Christie. The last 
thing I should think of doing is to make a pun 
intentionally in the presence of suffering.” 

“You are quite excusable, Miss Edith — ah! 
O ! — for I assure you I am not suffering — ha ! ha ! 
Indeed, I feel quite comfortable.” 

“Does your head hurt you, Mr. Christie?” 
and Edith innocently and very tenderly laid 
her soft, warm palm on the one spot on his 
forehead not covered with bandages, Mrs. Chris- 
tie the meantime exploring beneath the covers 
to see that the support for his arm was in 
proper place. 

“No! — yes! — that is, sometimes; but not 
just at this particular minute — ha! ha! I think 
it will before very long — ah! O!” 

Mr. Christie had never spent a whole day in 
bed as an invalid since he was a child, and all 
this nursing and tender care was new and very 
delightful to him. He was not very particular 
whether he recovered rapidly or not. 


A PLEASANT PRISON. 


175 


“Is there anything I could do for you, Mr. 
Christie? Mamma says you were so kind to 
papa when he had the fever. We all are so 
glad we can repay you now, in a little measure. 
Of course, we are sorry you are hurt, and all 
that,, and the buggy was right new, too ; but if 
you had to be hurt, why we are glad it hap- 
pened here, and not when you were on your 
vacation trip ; for then you would have to go to 
those dismal hospitals. Now, if you think of 
anything I could do for you, let me know. 
Mamma says we must not neglect you a minute, 
for papa’s sake.” 

“It is very kind of your mamma to send you, 
and very kind of you to come.” 

“Please do not mention it. It is nothing. 
It is a pleasure to take care of our friends. 
Now, what can I do for you?” 

“I think he ought to sleep all he can,” said 
Mrs. Christie, softly, and with the faintest smile. 

“O!” said Miss Edith, stopping her lips with 
a finger pressed tight against them, and arose 
as if to withdraw at once. 

Mr. Christie heard the remark, and noted 
Edith’s movement with alarm. 

“I think so, too,” he replied, not wishing to 
contradict his mother, nor to discredit her judg- 
ment. “I generally read myself to sleep; but 
I can not do that now.” 4 


176 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“Do you think I could read you to sleep, 
Mr. Christie?” 

“You — ah! O! — might try — ha! ha! ha! — 
Miss Edith. Nobody has ever tried yet — ha! ha! 

“I shall be only too happy! What shall I 
read?” 

“Would you mind reading the last number of 
the Pharmaceittical Review? It is — ah! O! — 
rather heavy reading, and has a — ah! O! — a 
druggy air — ha! ha! ha! — and ought to have a 
soporific effect — ha! ha! ha!” 

“O, Mr. Christie! how can I ever pronounce 
all those hard names?” 

“I can pronounce them lor you, Miss Edith — 
ha! ha! ha!” 

“Then you will never go to sleep, if you have 
to stay awake to pronounce the names for me!” 

“Well, take something else — ha! ha! The 
Congressional Record is there. You might read 
some speeches — ha! ha! — on removing duty 
from quinine.” 

“No; let me try the Pharmaceutical Review. 
It will be too funny to learn to pronounce those 
horrid names. You will not mind staying awake 
a little while to pronounce them for me, will 
you, Mr. Christie ?” 

“ No, Miss Edith — ha ! ha ! ha ! — I dare say 
you will need but little help.” 

“ Thank you!” drawing a chair near to the 


A PLEASANT PRISON. 


177 


bedside. “But what will you do, Mrs. Christie? 
Listen?” 

“ Yes ; but down-stairs, dearie. If Charlie 
needs anything, just tap the bell, and I will 
come up.” 

“Why can not I get it for him?” 

“ I am going to sleep — ha ! ha ! ha ! — mother, 
and will not need anything — ha ! ha ! ha !” 

Mrs. Christie smiled soltly, and quietly went 
below stairs. 

Edith spread the Review in her lap, leaned 
over it, and commenced to read the first article 
on the editorial pages, the meanwhile toying 
with the charm that hung from her necklace. 
Mr. Christie had known Edith from her girl- 
hood days ; but he had not before noticed how 
womanly she had become in appearance, though 
retaining the artlessness of her younger days. 
As she read the Review editorials aloud, he 
silently read her face and studied the character 
so plainly described thereon. 

“What does that mean, Mr. Christie?” Edith 
asked, looking up suddenly. 

“Why — ah! O! ha! ha! ha! — Miss Edith, I 
beg pardon ; but I really did not hear — ah ! 
O! — that is, I was thinking of something 
else.” 

“ Now, listen !” and she read the sentence 
again. 


178 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“Well — ah! O !— the plain English of that 
is that a druggist’s life is not a happy one !” 

“ But is n’t it?” 

“ Some druggists — ah ! O ! ha ! ha ! — are 
never satisfied with what they have. But — ah ! 

0 ! — Miss Edith — ha ! ha ! — that ’s not me!” 

“ I should think not !” with wide-open sur- 
prise. “ You have everything to make one 
happy, Mr, Christie.” 

“ Not everything, Miss Edith,” soberly. 

“No; not a horse or buggy !” 

“ Now, that is — ah ! O ! — mean — ha ! ha ! — * 
Miss Edith, considering my present state — 
ha! ha!” 

“Well, let me finish this editorial. I declare! 

1 am beginning to get interested in drugs and 
druggists myselt !” Then she read on just as 
if she had not sent an arrow straight to Mr. 
Christie’s heart — an arrow that he did not care 
to draw out, but which actually made him think 
less of his bodily hurts. Did she mean to say 
that ? or was it one of her artless outbursts of 
sincerity ? 

When she closed the Review , and glanced at 
the patient, his eyes were shut, and he was 
breathing regularly and quietly. She looked at 
him a minute, and then said softly, inquiringly : 

“Asleep?” 

Not a muscle moved, but he was not asleep. 


A PLEASANT PRISON. 


179 


He was feigning sleep ; for he did not wish to 
weary the reader the first day, and did not 
want her to think her labors were in vain. He 
heard the soft swish ot her dress as she arose 
and tip-toed out of the room. He heard her 
say to his mother, in the hall down-stairs, as 
she paused in the open door way. 

“ He seemed to enjoy it. I will come again 
to-morrow.” 

Then he went to sleep. His last wish was 
that he might not awaken at all until to- 


morrow. 


XVI. 

BITTER-SWEET. 


HE Temperance Society could not do other- 



wise than indorse the invitation Miss Josie 


had given Mr. Morrison to address the next as- 
sembly of the workers and friends of the cause. 
They had no desire to do otherwise. 

The Banner always gave prominence to an- 
nouncements of meetings of the Temperance 
Society, and in every way advertised the speak- 
ers. No exception was made in this case ; but 
the editor was sure that Morrison was insincere 
in his attitude, though he could not decide what 
motive prompted him. 

Miss Josie was entirely free of suspicion of 
insincerity, and Jennie Jessup was confident 
that a great reformation in her cousin was at 
hand. The one out of pure philanthropy, the 
other out of pure love, rejoiced that he was to 
address the assembly, and held frequent con- 
ferences to perfect plans for leading the young 
legislator into hearty espousals of their princi- 
ples and faithful observance of their practices. 

“ You can influence him as no other person 
can, Josie,” said Jessie, as they were discussing 
the matter at Josie’s home. 


180 


BITTERS WEE T. 


8 1 


“ I do not know,” she replied, hesitatingly 
and thoughtfully, at the same time flushing 
slightly at the compliment paid her persuasive 
powers by Jennie. 

“ I am sure you can. He has spoken lately 
to me in such warm terms of admiration for 
you that I know you can do more to bring him 
out on our side than any one else, or all of us 
put together.” 

“Do you really think so?” Josie asked 
eagerly, looking up, the slight flush deepening 
to a bright coloring, that made her lovely face 
all the lovelier in its so'tness and radiancy. 
Jennie’s quick eye caught this change, and she 
was encouraged thereby to press the case to its 
utmost. 

“If he is my cousin, Josie, you must agree 
with me that he is brilliant, entertaining, very 
gifted, and destined to exert a great influence 
with men. If that influence can only be di- 
rected toward sobriety and other good causes, 
what a blessing his li'e may be, and whoever 
saves him from drunkenness and a wrong li e, 
saves scores of others through him : perhaps 
hundreds ; may be thousands!” 

For a little while Josie had been oblivious to 
Jennie’s presence, and did not really hear; or, 
if hearing, did not comprehend what she had 
just said. Josie was dwelling on the words first 
13 


1 82 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


spoken: “Lately lie has spoken in such warm 
terms of admiration of you.” She was flattered. 
Thaddeus loved her devotedly. She was sure of 
that. She loved him fondly. There was no 
doubting that. But here was another soul turn- 
ing toward her, praising her, and waiting to be 
led by her. He was Thad’s enemy and rival. 
That she knew ; but why might she not become 
a peacemaker and unite their energies instead of 
permitting them to waste their strength fighting 
each other? Could she not prove her devotion 
to Thad by making friends with Wendell, and 
using him for Thad’s advancement? It looked 
as if she could. She was dreaming of this when 
Jennie, who had waited a minute or more for 
her to reply, said, pleadingly : 

“Will you not undertake the task?” 

“ I beg pardon, Jennie, I was lost in reverie. 
What did you say?” 

“ Will you not undertake to win Wendell 
over to our side ? He is on your side already,” 
she said, with a little laugh, and an expression 
of eyes and tone that pleased Josie greatly. 

“ Yes,” she said, meditatively, “ if you think 
I can do any good. But I undertake it un- 
willingly. Mr. Morrison is not a congenial com- 
panion. His tastes are so different from mine 
in every way.” This she said more to herself 
than to Jennie. 


BITTER-SWEET. 


l«3 


“O! that is because you do not know him. 
At heart he is royally good. You know him 
only as a public man. Just wait until you know 
the private man. Then you will change your 
mind.” 

“ Perhaps !” said Josie, with a bright gleam 
of pleasure at the thought of the reformation to 
be wrought by her influence. 

After a little while, having completed ar- 
rangements for the next assembly, Jennie said : 

“ Does Wendell visit here?” 

“ O no; only to see father on business.” 

“Excuse me, Josie; but I am so anxious 
about him that I may seem impertinent. Would 
you object if I should bring him up some night 
for a call ? He comes to our house two or three 
times a week now.” 

u I should be too happy to have him come — 
with you.” 

“When?” 

“ Any night — except — no, any night. I have 
no engagements for this week.” 

“Wednesday night?” 

“ Yes — Wednesday night — or Thursday, if it 
makes no difference,” Josie said, remembering 
that Wednesday was reserved for Thaddeus. 
But then Thaddeus need not interfere in her 
reform work. She would sacrifice her prefer- 
ences to her work; why should not he? 


184 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“ Wendell generally comes down to our house 
on Wednesday night,” said Jennie, “and I will 
send him a note that we are to spend the 
evening here.” 

“ Very well.” 

When Wendell received Jennie’s note, he 
read it hastily, not giving due attention to the 
words used, and rushed at once to the conclu- 
sion that he was to call on Josie at her sug- 
gestion, and not by arrangement made by his 
cousin Jennie, and forthwith fell to congrat- 
ulating himself on the easy marches he was 
making to the citadel he was intending to cap- 
ture. He gave no credit to his cousin for her 
part in the work, but arrogated to himself all 
praise for his captivating manner — when he set 
his heart to it ! 

Miss Josie was ill at ease after Jennie left. 
She doubted the policy of having Thaddeus 
meet Wendell in her parlor the first night the 
latter should call. It would be better to excuse 
herself to Thaddeus, and receive and entertain 
Jennie and Wendell alone. So she sent a note 
to him, saying : 

“My Dear Thaddeus, — Will you excuse me from the 
eng a gement for Wednesday night? I will explain why, 
sometime ; but do not ask me. Det me take my own time 
about it. Come down Thursday night, and Friday night, 
and even Saturday night, to make up for Wednesday night. 

“Josie.” 


BITTER-S W EE T. 


185 


Thaddeus read the note with real sorrow. 
He had counted much on the Wednesday night 
visit. His heart leaped in joy at the cordial in- 
vitation to call three successive evenings, but 
sank again when he recalled that every night 
had important business engagements that could 
not be put aside. 

But, of course, he would excuse Josie. Why 
should n’t he ? She had never before made 
such a request. It was not unreasonable. The 
note he sent in reply was warm, regretful, sub- 
missive, and loving. It touched Josie’s heart, 
and made her wish she had not consented to 
receive Wendell’s call. 

Wednesday afternoon, Wendell was in the 
Banner office, reading the city exchanges which 
had come on the late train. To take the best 
seat in the office, to appropriate the latest and 
brightest exchanges for first perusal, and to read 
aloud some striking sentence and give an oral 
comment for Thad’s enlightenment, had become 
so common with Wendell that the young editor 
had ceased to chafe under such unwarranted 
treatment, and quietly submitted to the intru- 
sion and the annoyance. However coolly Wen- 
dell had acted toward Thad at public meetings 
or elsewhere, however insolently he had talked 
to him in the presence of others, or however 
maliciously he had talked about him in his ab- 


i86 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


sence, lie never failed to make his daily call at 
the Banner office to read the papers, and to 
leave to be printed some item complimentary 
to himself. 

“ Hello ! here is a good one !” 

So saying, Wendell dropped his feet from 
the editor’s desk, picked up the editor’s pen, 
and, not seeing any paper near by, thrust his 
hand into his coat-pocket, and brought up his 
cousin Jennie’s note telling him of the engage- 
ment at Miss Josie’s home. Turning the sheet 
over, he wrote an item for the Banner on the 
blank side, put a paper-weight on it, and soon 
after went out of the office, leaving the item for 
the editor’s inspection. He read it, and was 
about to hand it out lor copy, when he noticed 
the writing on the other side, and indifferently 
turned it over to see what it was. He read in 
amazement. He could scarcely believe his eyes. 
Then it was to meet Wendell that Josie had 
canceled her engagement for Wednesday night! 
He was deeply wounded. He was very angry 
at himself and also at Josie. His impulse was 
to tear the sheet of note-paper into pieces, and 
toss them into the waste-basket. He concluded, 
instead, to rewrite the item for the printers, and 
to keep the note for future use. He put it 
away in a drawer, and resumed his duties with 
a heavy heart. 


BITTER-SWEET. 


187 


Just before he went home that evening he 
re-read the note, and discerned, what he had 
not noticed before, that Miss Jennie clearly 
stated that the engagement was at her solicita- 
tion. Then he was ashamed of himself for 
doubting Josie for one second. He was ashamed 
of himself for flying into a passion over such a 
small affair. He saw how discreetly and kindly 
Josie had acted ; for he certainly would not be 
happy in Wendell’s presence in Judge Tracy’s 
parlor. He went home comforted. He admired 
Josie more than ever. He could trust her now 
to do the right thing at all times. He was 
proud of her. She was a woman of rare tact. 
He loved her. She had proved herself so ten- 
der of his feelings, and had sacrificed her pleas- 
ure to his peace of mind. Those were the 
thoughts that made his walk toward home 
bright and cheerful. 

He laughed aloud as he passed through the 
gate opening into his own door-yard. He would, 
just for a joke, next week, ask Josie to excuse 
him from his engagement, and would then spend 
the evening with Miss Jennie Jessup. That 
would make them even, and both would have 
something to tease the other about. Happy 
thought ! 


190 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


down again — to-morrow night perhaps. Who is 
in there ?” 

“Thad Throckmorton.’’ 

“Hasn’t been here lately, has he?” 

“No, not for weeks.” 

“That settles it, auntie. Thad is a splendid 
fellow. I would not break in on Jennie to- 
night for a fortune. Do not tell her I was 
here.” 

Wendell slipped softly to the curtains that 
separated the parlors, and peeped in, his aunt 
looking in with him. Then he bowed himself 
out, saying under his breath, for the music had 
ceased: “H-s-h! Not a word, auntie ! Will come 
down again soon. Do not tell her. Thad ’s a 
good fellow. Am glad he likes Jennie.” 

Before he reached the front gate the piano 
rang out an interlude, and the last he heard of 
Jennie and Thad, as he walked rather hurriedly 
away, was a strain of a duet they were singing. 

A half-hour later, Wendell stood ringing the 
bell at Judge Tracy’s door. 

“No; I will answer the bell,” said Josie, fly- 
ing down the stairs, and intercepting the maid 
in the hallway. She was sure Thad had changed 
his plans, and had come anyway, though late. 

“May I have the pleasure?” said Wendell, 
bowing low, and smiling blandly, as he paused 
a moment on the threshold. 


CROSS PURPOSES. 


191 

“O!” gasped Josie, when she saw who the 
caller was, and pressed both hands close over 
her heart. “ I thought — pray come in, Mr. 
Morrison. Do, please, excuse my blundering. 
I was not expecting you.” 

“Some one else, then?” said Wendell, in a 
tone of offended dignity, yet with courteous 
humility — a manner and a tone of which he was 
complete master. 

For a moment Josie was confused, but only 
for a moment, recalling instantly that she was 
not looking for Thad, and answered composedly : 

“No one else, Mr. Morrison; nor was I ex- 
pecting you.” 

“I hope I do not intrude?” 

“ By no means, Mr. Morrison. You must ex- 
cuse my blundering. I§ — is your mother quite 
well ?” 

“Quite, Miss Josie. I trust Mrs. Tracy is in 
good health ?” 

“She is, thank you!” 

For some reason both felt constrained, and 
the atmosphere was icy. Josie regretted this ; 
for she was truly desirous of reaching Wendell, 
and accomplishing his reformation. He was 
sorry ; for he had counted on a cordial recep- 
tion, and had felt sure of making a grand march 
toward the conquest of Miss Josie’s heart. He 
rallied his retreating confidence, and essayed a 


192 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


flank movement. So he said abruptly, but with 
apparent earnestness and sincerity : 

“You can not imagine, Miss Josie, how much 
interest I feel in the success of your temperance 
movement.” 

“I am glad to hear you say that. Of course, 
we are all so grateful to you for your address 
the other night. At our regular meeting we 
will adopt a resolution of thanks, and will send 
you an engrossed copy ; but I must say to you 
personally how your w r ords stirred my soul !” 

“You honor me above my deserts, Miss Josie. 
I am not insensible to the honor conferred on 
me by your invitation, and am truly glad that 
my efforts were appreciated.” 

“ Indeed they were. Our cause has taken on 
fresh vigor since then. I am quite sure you 
have done us a world of good.” 

“Can you sing that song for me to-night, 
Miss Josie, that you sang then?” 

“If you desire it,” she said, promptly. 

“I certainly do. May I turn the music 
for you ?” 

“Thanks !” 

Miss Josie was delighted beyond measure at 
this invitation. Her heart was in a flutter, and 
the hot blood mounted to her face, and she cast 
a wistful glance at Wendell as he stood beside 
her. She had selected and sung that song at 


CROSS PURPOSES. 


193 


the assembly for his especial benefit, hoping it 
would touch his heart ; and now he asked her 
to sing it again ! It had surely been a success- 
ful venture. What would Thad say when he 
knew of her victory? These thoughts inspired 
her with hope, and thrilled her soul with pleas- 
ure. Wendell noted her animation, her evident 
happiness at being asked to sing for him, and 
he counted the movement a fortunate one. She 
was not as hard to capture as he had supposed. 
But, then, he was a skillful maneuvered So he 
thought, and he smiled appreciatively upon the 
fair singer. He did not ask her to sing again ; 
but the remainder of the evening devoted him- 
self to entertaining her, relating amusing epi- 
sodes in his legislative life, describing famous 
men he had met, and manifesting an interest in 
the success of moral reform movements that 
surprised and gladdened Josie. 

“ I do not remember when I spent a more 
delightful evening, Miss Josie,” he said, rising 
to go. 

“ I am sure the enjoyment has been mutual,” 
she said, earnestly. 

“ I am not sorry now that a disappointment 
led to my coming here, though to confess the 
truth I did not leave home to come here.” 

“ So I am second choice,” she said, archly. 

i( Do not put it that way, Miss Josie. You 


194 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


see, I went down to see Jennie Jessup to-night, 
but found Mr. Throckmorton was there ; and 
as they were having such a fine time singing 
together, I would not let auntie tell them I was 
there. Not knowing just how to put in the 
evening, I ventured to come here. But, Miss 
Josie, you must know if my last call here had 
not been so agreeable I should not have even 
thought of coming to-night.” 

“Thanks,” she said, calmly, though her 
heart was in a tumult. 

When he had gone, she went to her own 
room, and was disconsolate. She resolutely re- 
solved to keep her wounded heart hidden from 
Thad. She almost lost all desire for Wendell’s 
reformation. It had already cost her much. 
Could she afford the entire expense? There 
was one consolation, however: Wendell had 
never before shown any preference for any lady 
in that city, and she had brought him to her as 
a suitor. She would encourage him just enough 
to hold him near her until her object was ac- 
complished. That would annoy Thaddeus, per- 
haps ; but then had he not given her liberty to 
do that by breaking an engagement with her to 
call on Jennie Jessup? After all, it might be 
convenient to have Thad less attentive for 
a while. Comforted, she fell asleep, and dreamed 
away the night. 


CROSS PURPOSES. 


95 


At Jennie’s home, the hours sped rapidly. 
The evening was devoted entirely to music. 

“I have it now!” Jennie exclaimed, enthusi- 
astically, after a particularly happy rendering of 
two parts of a quartet song. “ Let us have a 
select quartet ! You, Wendell, Josie and I. 
That would be just too splendid !” 

Thaddeus smiled, and seemed to be looking 
for another song. 

“ We are so anxious about Wendell,” Jen- 
nie continued, soltly thrumming the piano keys 
with one hand, “ and I know it would do him 
good to go with our set.” 

“ But would he?” Thad asked, with but little 
show of interest. 

“ Certainly. He is trying to reform, I am 
sure. Josie has great influence with him — more 
than any one.” 

Thaddeus sighed heavily, and sank into a 
chair and drifted off into a reverie, as he was so 
wont to do. 

Jennie was busy with her own thoughts, and 
did not notice his abstraction for a little while. 
Then she said : 

“Will you agree to it?” 

“ O, of course, if the others will.” 

“And may I arrange for the quartet, if I 
can ?” 

“ I do n’t think you can ; but I am in favor 


196 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


of it,” Thad said, with an attempt at indif- 
ference. 

“Yes I can. I will begin right now. You 
come down Friday night. Will you?” 

“ Yes,” said Thad. “Then what?” 

“ I will ask cousin Wendell to bring Josie 
down, and after a social hour we will spring the 
matter on them. They could hardly object, 
could they, when you and I both insist?” 

Thaddeus trembled, and his heart stood 
still. “ They could not object” — Wendell and 
Josie — he said, over to himself. “You and I 
insist” — Jennie and Thaddeus. What fate was 
linking their names like that? 

“ Could they?” she asked again, after waiting 
a minute for him to reply. 

“ O, of course not,” he answered, springing 
up and looking at his watch. “ Eleven o’clock! 
Is it possible !” 

“That is early,” said Jennie, brightly. 

“Why did I so forget myself?” Thaddeus 
was talking to himself more than to Jennie, and 
thinking of Josie rather than of his hostess. 

“ I hope I may have some blame for that,” 
Jennie said, laughingly. 

“You have certainly beguiled me into staying 
an hour longer than I should.” 

Thaddeus went home sadly, repenting at 
every step that he had thus retaliated upon Josie. 


XVIII. 

THE PRAYER-MEETING. 


7 \ MOST unexpected occurrence, trivial in 
appearance, but important in results, must 
be recorded here. 

Rev. Archibald Outwright had a way of his 
own in conducting the affairs of the Church of 
which he was pastor. He prided himself on the 
spirit and general excellence of the social meet- 
ings, especially prayer service, and never let 
pass an opportunity to create new interest in 
that assembly of the flock. In pursuance of 
this purpose, he called at the office of Tracy & 
Morrison to. invite the young lawyer to come to 
prayer-meeting. Could anything be more auda- 
cious? Yes; the inviting of Mr. Morrison to 
address the temperance rally! That had been 
successful ; and why not this ? That had been 
brought about by the young people. Why 
might not a pastor achieve a similar victory? 
With a courage that many could never sum- 
mon, Mr. Outwright entered the lawyer’s office 
early one morning, and, finding him alone, pro- 
ceeded at once to make his errand known, en- 
couraged by the hearty greeting extended him. 
It was easy for Wendell to be hearty in his 
14 197 


198 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


friendship. It was a cultivated grace — a part 
of his trade. 

“Why, my dear Mr. Outwright! Is this not 
early for a clergyman to be abroad? I had an 
idea that, except on rare occasions, they in- 
dulged in large measures of ‘ tired nature’s 
sweet restorer.’ But I am royally glad to see 
you! How are you, this bright morning?” 

“ Quite well, I thank you. No, it is not un- 
usually early for me to be out ; but, if it were, 
this would be 4 a rare occasion ’ which would 
justify my early call. I have come to ask you 
to be present at prayer-meeting to-night.” 

“What!” Wendell said in unfeigned aston- 
ishment ; “ come to ask me to attend prayer- 
meeting! Mr. Outwright, you surely are not 
‘ guying ’ me, as the boys say ?” 

“ Not by any means. I am in earnest. Will 
you come to-night?” 

“Well, well!” Wendell said, meditatively. 
And then he lifted his eyes to Mr. Outwright’s 
and added : “ You are the first man that ever 
invited me to such a place ; but I have scores 
of invitations to go to the bad. I hardly know 
what to say. I would do almost anything to 
please you , Mr. Outwright, for I have always 
considered you my friend ; but this is so un- 
usual a request I am not prepared to answer at 
once. I will take it under advisement.” 


THE PRAYER-MEETING. 


199 


“ Do nothing of the kind,” said the minister, 
earnestly, at the same time putting his hand 
upon Wendell’s shoulder in a respectfully famil- 
iar style, peculiar to himself. “ It is a little 
thing I ask you to do. Say yes or no now, and 
send me on my way rejoicing; for I know you 
will say yes.” 

“ But you must know, Mr. Outwright, that I 
have no faith in religion — such as you teach. 
I believe in being as honest as one can, and not 
get swindled out of everything he has ; I be- 
lieve in helping the poor, and all that ; but as 
to praying and singing — why, somehow, I do n’t 
take to it like some people.” 

“Then you say no?” Mr. Outwright asked, 
in a tone that clearly indicated his regret at 
the decision. 

“Not exactly; but I wanted to warn you 
that if I should say ‘ yes,’ it would be to ac- 
commodate you, and not to please myself.” 

“I understand that; I ask it as a personal 
favor — this time ; some other time I might urge 
other considerations.” 

“Well, then, to please you” — stopping to 
weigh well his decision — “ I will come ; pro- 
vided, I can get some one to come with me — 
some one who is as much a stranger there as I 
will be — to keep me company, you know.” 

“Good!” Mr. Outwright exclaimed, “I wish 


200 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


I had a hundred and fifty men like you in the 
Church ; men who will not only come them- 
selves, but who will bring some one for com- 
pany. Good ! Be sure to bring a companion. 
Good-bye !” 

In an instant Mr. Outwright was out of the 
door, rejoicing in his heart over the success of 
that venture. 

The young politician sat in his office after 
the minister leit him, smiling over the bright- 
ness of his future prospects. Rapidly, very 
rapidly, his mind had wrought out a scheme 
while Mr. Outwright was awaiting his decision. 
With his usual quickness, he saw the end from 
the beginning, and decided accordingly. 

“ What a surprise that will be for her !” he 
said aloud, as he turned to his desk to write a 
note to Miss Tracy. “ But I will not let it be 
the last. One surprise shall follow another until 
the last great surprise, when she finds herself 
my wife, and I her lord. Then, then I will go 
and come as / please.” 

He wrote, asking her to go with him to 
prayer-meeting. 

When Miss Tracy received the note, and had 
read it once, she held it open in her hand, and 
thoughtfully considered its request. 

To prayer-meeting? Why, she rarely went 
herself! To prayer-meeting with Wendell Mor- 


THE PRAYER-MEETING. 


201 


rison? What would Thaddeus think? What 
would people say? 

She turned to the note, and read it again. 
There was no reference to his recent call at her 
house; but perhaps, after all, something she said 
then had led him to believe she was not only 
a member of the Church, but a regular attend- 
ant on all its services. It would not be sale 
for her to disappoint him just now, when she 
was so earnestly endeavoring to reclaim him 
from the use of intoxicants ! So she read the 
note a third time, and in new light. Hastily 
writing a note of acceptance, she dispatched it 
by the messenger who had brought Wendell’s 
request, and felt she had done a noble act — had 
sacrificed herself and Thaddeus, too, on the 
altar of duty. 

Encouraged by his signal success in persuad- 
ing the young lawyer to promise to attend 
prayer-meeting, Mr. Outwright went immedi- 
ately to see the editor of the Banner , counting 
that there he could not fail, and was certain of 
adding at least two persons to the members 
who would be at Church that night. 

“ As usual, working for life !” he said, closing 
behind him the door of the editor’s office, where 
Thaddeus was driving his pencil across the 
pages of soft paper as il only an hour remained 
for a whole day’s work. 


202 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“Correct!” he said, glancing up at the 
speaker, and then continuing his work. “Have 
a seat;” and on the pencil dashed. “Be done 
in a minute,” he added, and wrote on. “ The 
boys are nearly out of copy,” he explained a 
minute later, as he finished the page and 
handed a lot of copy to the foreman. 

“ In that case I will tarry but a minute. By 
the way, did you know this is prayer-meeting 
night?” 

Thaddeus laughed, and said : “ So it is ! 
Well, I have been a little negligent for some 
weeks, I confess; but I will turn over a new 
leaf this very day, pastor, and will keep it 
turned right along. That sermon of yours last 
Sunday morning stirred me up wonderfully. 
Yes, I will be there, if nothing happens to pre- 
vent.” 

“Good! Good! Well, good-morning ! I will 
look for you.” 

“You may,” Thaddeus added, earnestly. 
“ But say !” he called, as Mr. Outwright was 
closing the door, after he passed out. 

“ Well?” he asked, peeping through the door, 
as he held it ajar. 

“ I suppose you will not object if I bring 
somebody with me?” 

“Not I! Do bring somebody; bring two!” 

“ That I will,” Thaddeus called to him as he 


THE PRAYER-MEETING. 


203 


closed the door. And so he did, though no one 
could have guessed who the two would be. 
Thaddeus intended to call for Miss Josie, never 
doubting her certain acceptance of his in- 
vitation. 

Mr. Outwright was so pleased over his suc- 
cess so far that he was just in the mood to push 
his work to the utmost. With this thought in 
mind, he entered Mr. Christie’s drugstore to 
make a trifling purchase, and was waited on by 
Mr. Christie himself. As no one was present 
besides the two, Mr. Outwright said, with a 
peculiar sidelong glance of mingled hope and 
fear, brightened by a smile of kindliness that 
always foiled resentment : 

“ Mr. Christie, there is one place in Bramble- 
ville you do not know much about.” 

“Well, yes — ha! ha! — Mr. Outwright — ha! 
ha ! — I am quite sure — O ! ah ! — ha ! ha ! — there 
are many places in Brambleville — ah ! — that I 
do n’t know much about — ha ! ha ! — but — O ! 
ah ! — ha ! ha ! — I can not guess which one — O ! 
ha ! ha ! — you refer to now.” 

“I mean prayer-meeting.” 

“Well, that is a good one, of course. O! 
ha! ha! I do n’t know much about that place — 
ha ! ha ! — but, Mr. Outwright, my mother — O ! 
ha ! ha ! — my mother — ha ! ha ! — ’tends to that 
for us both. Ha! ha!” 


204 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“Yes, your mother comes regularly. That 
is why I think you ought to come occasionally. 
Come to-night, just to please me — and your 
mother.” 

“I — ah! — ha! ha! — well, I — I — perhaps — 
ha ! ha ! — I will, just to please you — ha ! ha ! — 
and — my mother.” 

“ Thank you ! I will look for you. Good- 
day!” and the minister was gone, seeking some 
other person to invite to prayer-meeting. 

His work in that direction was abundantly 
successful, as the attendance that night demon- 
strated. 

There was no doubt in Thaddeus’s mind 
that Miss Josie would go with him to prayer- 
meeting if he should ask her, and he intended 
to ask her before he went home for dinner. 
With this thought in view he turned to his 
work with enthusiasm, after the minister left, 
and put so much vigor and push into his labor 
that he soon saw a mass of “copy” pile up on 
his desk, and found himself at liberty to make 
an informal call at Judge Tracy’s an hour or 
more before noon. 

Messenger-boys in Brambleville were not 
regularly employed as such, but were picked up 
here and there from among the unengaged, 
wherever the patron could find one willing to 
perform the service required. It was such a 


THE PRAYER-MEETING. 


205 


one as this that Thaddeus saw coming out of 
the gate at Judge Tracy’s as he approached. 
They passed a short distance from the entrance 
to the judge’s home, and when Thaddeus was 
about to open the gate, he saw at his feet a 
sealed note. He picked it up, glanced at the 
address, recognized the handwriting, and for a 
moment was transfixed with astonishment and 
filled with intensest indignation; for in the well- 
known, almost perfect, and smoothly-flowing 
chirography of Miss Josie’s pen, was the name 
of Wendell Morrison. A moment only he 
hesitated ; a moment only was he indignant ; a 
moment only did he give place to wrathlul 
thoughts, — the next, he was calm, tolerant, and 
decided. Hurrying after the boy, he delivered 
the note to him ; rebuked him gently for his 
carelessness ; and told him when he had given 
the message to Mr. Morrison, to come to his 
office for another, to be taken to Mrs. Jessup’s. 
Would he ? 

“ ’Course,” he answered briefly ; for he was 
concerned in something more important than 
carrying notes, though that was desirable work 
just then, as he was endeavoring to save up 
money enough to go to the next show, already 
advertised to appear in Brambleville ; and at 
once the barefooted and frowsy-headed volun- 
teer messenger-boy commenced to ply the young 


206 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


editor with questions, and to flood him with in- 
formation gained from his street companions, 
winding up, as they reached the Banner office, 
with a pointed question : 

“Say, now, ef I ’d carry notes for yo’ ev’ry 
day an’ ev’ry day, would yo’ give me tick’s to 
ev’ry blamed show thet cums ’long? ’Cause 
the boys all say you gits comp’s to ev’rything, 
an’ /never see yo’ ter nun uv ’em.” 

“I do not have many notes to carry,” Thad- 
deus said, laughing ; “ and I am afraid tickets 
to shows will not be good for you.” 

As he spoke, he put his hand on the boy’s 
head, and turned his face upward toward his 
own. The happy expression faded from the 
fair face, and the blue eyes took on a deeper 
hue, as a sense of disappointment filled the 
childish heart. With an effort to be calm, ac- 
companied by a perceptible swallowing of grief, 
the boy stood for a second like a statue. Thad- 
deus’s heart was touched. Thinking rapidly 
what to say or do, his face brightened, and the 
sunshine of his heart fell upon the soul of the 
child, and made his eyes shine like a June sky. 
He said : 

“ After you take my note, I will pay you, and 
will give you a ticket to a concert at the church 
next week, if you will go to a Church enter- 
tainment.” 


THE PRAYER-MEETING. 


207 


“Golly! Will I go? I ’ll go !” 

Away he ran, or rather jumped ; for his feet 
scarcely touched the pavement as he bounded 
like a rubber-ball along the street. Watching 
him, Thaddeus forgot for a moment his own 
disappointment, and stood, smiling after him, 
one foot on the pavement, the other on the first 
step of the stairs he was about to mount to 
reach his office. He was living over the years 
of his own happy childhood, and wishing all 
boys might have such a home as his, when Seth 
Russell touched his arm, having come to his side 
noiselessly. 

“Say!” the old man said, pointing toward 
the boy, just disappearing in the stairway lead- 
ing up to Morrison’s office, “whatever you do 
for that boy will bring blessings on your head. 
Did you see his eyes? They are his mother’s — 
a piece of heaven’s own blue. Did you notice 
his head? It is his father’s, and a skillfuller 
mechanic never lived than him. Knew ’em 
both. Both are in God’s home, they say; but I 
reckon both of ’em are right nigh him that is 
kind to their Joseph. But, say, Thad, my poor, 
dear boy, son of my best friend, old Seth’s 
heart aches for you! You are to be tried as by 
fire. Never flinch ! Be true to yourself, and to 
the right, and to those who love you. ‘Love 
with a pure heart, fervently.’ First, let love be 


208 


AN ODD FELLOW . 


pure ; then, fervent. Good-bye ! Old Seth 
has eyes and ears open for those he loves. 
Good-bye !” 

Thaddeus mounted the stairs two steps at 
once, saying, as he did so: “He is an odd fel- 
low, and no mistake.” 

There were two happy hearts at prayer- 
meeting that night: The pastor’s, because his 
invitations had so generally been accepted ; Mrs. 
Christie’s, because her son had voluntarily ac- 
companied her to the service. 

There were two sadly-disturbed souls at 
prayer-meeting that night : Miss Josie Tracy’s, 
because she was there with Wendell Morrison 
and Thaddeus was with Jennie Jessup ; and 
Thaddeus Throckmorton’s, because of the same 
unexpected groupings. 

Such an assemblage, in its heterogeneous- 
ness, never before had appeared in that church, 
and never afterward. Paths met there, crossed, 
separated, diverged, and never again on earth 
escaped the controlling influence of that brief 
hour and a half in the house of God. 

Whose hand brought them there? Whose 
will sent them away with new and strange 
thoughts? Who put fire into the heart of the 
pastor that night, and power into his words? 
Who dropped the lead into the religious life of 
one, showing how shallow it was, because it ran 


THE PRAYER-MEETING. 


209 


over the shoal of selfishness ; and who sounded 
the life of another, revealing its great depths, 
because God’s providences had every day broken 
up and carried away the hidden rocks of selfish 
desire? Who, in one hour, severed bonds, like 
cords of tow, that were thought to be bands of 
iron? Who melted, and ran into one mold, 
hearts that had, until then, been singularly an- 
tagonistic? Who, but the One who works out 
his own designs, whether men assist or resist? 

As Thaddeus walked home in deep medita- 
tion, after leaving Miss Jennie Jessup and her 
mother at their door, he met Seth Russell at the 
corner. 

“I was waiting for you, Thad, son of my best 
beloved friend. ‘God is love,’ and all he does 
is for the good of those who trust him. I see 
he has set your feet in the path that leads to 
happiness, renown, and wealth. Follow his 
leadings, though it break your heart. Remem- 
ber, ‘ He healeth the broken in heart, and bind- 
eth up their wounds.’ You are broken-hearted 
and wounded to-night, son of my best beloved 
friend. I know. I saw you. Good-night!” 

The aged but lithe form disappeared down 
the street, the white hair and whiter beard blow- 
ing about his head and face, like finest silk, in 
the breeze of that summer night. 


XIX. 


EXPLANATIONS. 

T T7HE next morning, while Jennie Jessup was 
-i- engaged in her piano practice, her mother 
came in, and, sitting down with broom in hand 
and sweeping-cap on, said, with emphasis and 
an air of deep concern : 

“Do stop a minute or two, Jennie, and let 
me know what you think. I have my own 
thoughts, but they may not be right.” 

Jennie did not stop at once, but touched the 
keys very softly while her mother was speaking, 
and then went on to the end of the score she 
was playing ; but at the same time answered 
her mother : 

“One, two, three, four — about what, mother? 
One and two, and three and four, and — in a min- 
ute, mother. One, and a two, and a three, and 
a four, and a — just as soon as I get this right 
once. One and two, and three and four. There ! 
Now, what, mother?” she said, turning round on 
the stool to face Mrs. Jessup. 

“Well, about prayer-meeting last night. I 
was never so wrought up in my life,” the mother 
said, sweeping away imaginary dust from about 
her chair. 


210 



“Now, what, mother?” she said, turning round on the 
stool to face Mrs. Jessup.— Page 210. 





EXP LAN A TJONS. 


21 1 


“It was good,” Jennie said, folding her arms, 
and dropping her head meditatively. 

“I suppose it was; but that is not what I 
mean. I mean the people who were there.” 

“There was a large attendance; but, then, 
Mr. Outwright knows how to get people out. I 
think it is his — ” 

“I do not mean the many, but the kind of 
people who were there, and the way they were 
there.” 

“O !” Jennie said, in surprise, lifting her eyes 
to her mother’s. 

“Did n’t you notice it?” 

“Why — not particularly.” 

“You did n’t? I did. Now, there was your 
cousin Wendell. Nothing has happened in a 
dozen years to surprise me like that, except his 
temperance speech that time. Do you know 
how he happened to come?” 

“Mr. Outwright, I suppose.” 

“Or, Josie Tracy?” Mrs. Jessup added; and, 
for a few minutes, mother and daughter were 
silent. 

“ But another thing, Jennie, puzzled me. 
How did it happen that Thaddeus came by for 
you? Now, if it had been anybody else I should 
have thought nothing of it.” 

“Why should you anyway, mother? Thad- 
deus used to come by for me very often.” 


212 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“But that was a long, long time ago.” 

“Not so very. We were in the same classes 
in school, you know.” 

“And, then, there was Charlie Christie at 
prayer-meeting. I am expecting the millen- 
nium right away now, when such a dry stick as 
Charlie gets to coming to Church, and such a 
hard case as Wendell is at prayer-meeting.” 

“ Mother, I do believe you did not hear one 
word the pastor said,” Jennie replied, laughing 
gayly. “ You were absorbed in the people.” 

“Yes, I heard what he said, right enough; 
but I was worked up by what I saw.” 

“ Well, I thought it was a splendid meeting, 
and did not pay much attention to the people 
who were present.” 

“ Except to one,” Mrs. Jessup said, signifi- 
cantly. 

“What one was that?” Jennie asked, inno- 
cently, turning to the piano to put another piece 
of music on the rack. 

“ Thaddeus.” 

“ Not much to him, either,” she replied, and 
turned about to face her mother, showing just a 
little uneasiness at being detained longer from 
her practice. 

“ But tell me, Jennie,” Mrs. Jessup said, 
sighing softly, and thumping the floor with the 
broom, not caring to lift her face to her daugh- 


EX PLANA TIONS. 


213 


ter’s, “ are you not afraid to have Thaddeus 
come back to you ? Do you not remember how 
hard it was to be reconciled to his going away 
before ?” 

“ Mother,” Jennie said, impulsively and with 
much feeling, though she strove to be calm, “I 
was young and thoughtless then. I hope a ma- 
ture mind is more to be trusted than a giddy 
girl’s.” 

“ It is, my daughter, it is ; but the heart is 
seldom ever guided by the judgment.” 

“ If you feel that way,” Jennie said, submiss- 
ively, after a few minutes’ reflection, “ when he 
comes to-night I will tell him plainly what you 
think, and ask him not to call any more.” 

“‘When he comes to-night!’ Is he coming 
to-night?” Mrs. Jessup exclaimed, excitedly. 
“ I am sorry,” she added, in a quieter tone, re- 
suming her manner of sorrowful concern. “ I 
am very sorry. For several reasons I am sorry, 
and almost as much on his account as on yours.” 

“What can you mean, mother? You are 
taking the matter all too seriously. Thaddeus 
has called once or twice, and has gone to Church 
with me once, and is to call again. Surely all 
that is very little ; but you speak as though we 
were engaged, or about to be.” 

“ There are some things I know that you do 
not, my daughter, and I can not tell you now. 
15 


214 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


I was glad when he quit coming, though it did 
so nearly break your heart, and I can not but be 
sorry to have even the appearance of a renewal 
of his visits. Will you let me influence you in 
this, without giving my reasons ?” 

“ Mother,’’ Jennie said, kindly, but firmly. 
“ I am not now the girl I was then. Then I 
yielded to your wishes ; but now I feel that I 
have rights that I must not surrender even to 
you. I can not retain my self-respect and do 
that. If you will give me one good reason why 
I ought not to receive calls or any attention 
from Thaddeus, I will gladly do as you say — lor 
a good reason.” 

Mrs. Jessup did not reply at once. She was 
undecided what course to take for awhile; but 
.finally determined to make a bold stand, and 
said: 

“ There is very serious doubt as to who his 
parents are!” 

“ But I thought — ” Jennie said, in surprise 
and alarm. 

“ Yes, I know what you think ; but I can not 
tell you any more now.” 

“ But why did you not tell me this before?” 

“ See how it distresses you now. Could you 
have received it with less remorse when you 
were in love with him as a ‘giddy girl,’ to use 
your own words?” 


EXP LAN A TIONS. 


215 


“ But is there any disgrace in not knowing 
your ancestry ?” 

“By no means; but the ancestry, if known, 
might be a disgrace !” 

“And might be a great honor!” 

“ Possibly ; but not in this case.” 

“ Then you know.” 

“ I have my suspicions.” 

“ What are they?” 

“ I can not tell you now. Sometime I may. 
But have I not given you a good reason for dis- 
carding his attentions?” 

“ No, mother!” 

“ I am sorry, very sorry, my daughter. You 
take your own risks.” 

Mrs. Jessup arose and went about her work, 
leaving Jennie with her music ; but the hour 
slipped by without a sound from the instru- 
ment, for the player was in no mood to invoke 
sweet harmonies and rich melodies from its 
vibrating cords. Memories of other years swept 
over her soul like a flood, and she felt the touch 
of thoughts and hopes she had believed were 
forever dead. 

Thaddeus lost no time that same morning in 
calling on Miss Josie, determined to undo, as 
far as he could, the wrong of the past few days, 
and to set himself right in her mind. He was 
heartily tired of deception, even in the way of 


2 1 6 


AN ODD FELLOW \ 


practical joking. He was sure, very sure, he 
was not prompted by a spirit of jealousy. 

“ Pardon this call at such an unseasonable, 
if not unreasonable, hour,” he said, rising to 
greet Miss Josie as she came into the parlor. 

In reply she smiled faintly, extended her 
hand, and, as she sank into a chair, said : “ An 
early call is better than none and so saying 
echoed the sentiment of her heart. 

“ Thank you, Josie ; that is better than I de- 
serve. But, believe me, I did not stay away 
because I wanted to. I thought — perhaps you 
did n’t care.” 

“Did you, indeed?” she said, with arching 
brows. 

“ Indeed I did ; but I have come this morn- 
ing to say I am sorry if I have given you pain 
for even an hour. Will you forgive me?” 

“ I will,” she said calmly, so far as her voice 
was concerned ; but she straightened herself in 
the chair, clasped her hands tightly, and let 
them fall heavily on her lap, and Thaddeus no- 
ticed a constrained look of peace on her face. 
Quickly she added : “ I will on one condition.” 

“What’s that? That I shall never do so 
again? That’s easy! I promise that with all 
my heart,” he said, eagerly. 

Josie was disconcerted for a moment by his 


EXP LA NA 7 IONS. 


217 


eagerness ; but with a forced smile and uncer- 
tain voice she said : 

“ Not that — but easier — perhaps. That you 
let ine have time to work out a cherished hope — 
something I have prayed over very earnestly, 
and feel to be a duty ; though, in some respects, 
an unpleasant one.” 

“Certainly!” Thaddeus replied, earnestly. 
Rising, and walking over to Josie’s chair, he 
stopped right be lore her, and was about to take 
her hand when she put them out of his reach, 
and said: 

“ Wait ! What would you do to save a soul, 
Thaddeus ?” 

“Your soul, Josie? Anything in my power! 
I should limit myself in no way. I would make 
any sacrifice; endure any affliction !” 

“Would you? I believe you would! But I 
did not put the question right. What do you 
think / ought to do to save a soul?” 

Thaddeus was silent, and tried to read the 
eyes bent so earnestly and heroically on him. 
But in their clear depths he saw no clue to 
Josie’s meaning, and he was obliged to say : 

“ A soul is worth much, Josie ; even a world 
is nothing in comparison. I can not answer 
that question for you. You must answer it for 
yourself.” 


2 l8 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“So I know; so I have done; my inind is 
made up. But will you help me ?” 

“ I will, most faithfully and earnestly. What 
would you have me do?” 

“ Leave me to myself awhile — until I bid you 
come again.” 

“ Josie!” he exclaimed in distress. 

“It has cost me a fearful struggle; but I 
have gained the victory.” 

“Josie, you are beside yourself! I can not 
believe you know what you say !” 

“ I am not beside myself. I know perfectly 
well what I am saying.” 

“Then will you tell me all the particulars of 
this sudden and very strange determination.” 

“I will. You were at prayer-meeting last 
night ?” 

“Yes.” 

“You saw me there with — with — Wendell?” 

“I am sorry to say, I did.” 

“I knew you would be. But except for me, 
Wendell would not have gone. He said so ; and 
he was much interested, and told me he would 
go olten — if I would go with him.” 

“ The knave!” 

“How could you! Remember you have 
promised me to help! After we came home last 
night he signed the temperance pledge. I wrote 
it here with my own hand, and he signed it.” 


EXP LANA TIONS. 


219 


“And you believe he will keep it?” 

“Yes; for he left it with me, and made me 
write another and sign it myself and give it to 
him to keep. He said whenever he should look 
at my pledge he would think of me r and his 
pledge !” 

“What else did you pledge?” Thaddeus 
asked, in such cold and deliberate tones that 
Josie was startled. 

“Nothing; except that I said I would go 
with him to Church Sunday night. I do so 
want him to hear one of Mr. Outwright’s 
sermons.” 

“ Good-bye !” 

Before she could utter one word of protest 
he was gone. 

She shuddered at the thought of what he 
must suffer; but consoled herself with the re- 
flection that she was sacrificing her happiness 
and his for the uplifting of an immortal soul. 

“If need be,” she said aloud, when she had 
returned to her room, “if need be, I believe I 
could actually marry Wendell to save him from 
ruin! Thaddeus, my darling, you do not need 
any help. You are strong in yourself, while 
Wendell is weak at one point, though strong 
everywhere else. He says I am ‘a tower of 
strength to him V ” 


XX. 


MR. CHARLES CHRISTIE. 

ISS EDITH, you can scarcely guess — 



ha! ha! — how many people have called 


to-day — ha! ha! — to say how surprised, or — ah! 
— how delighted, if you will — ha! ha! — excuse 
the term, to see me at prayer-meeting last 
night! And — ha! ha! — I was quite surprised 
myself — ha! ha! — and delighted, of course — ha! 
ha! — to find myself there! I hope — O! ah! — 
Miss Edith, you were not wholly displeased 
yourself — ha! ha! — to know that I can go to 
prayer-meeting occasionally — ha! ha! — when a 
sufficient reason is given — ha! ha! Do I pre- 
sume — ha! ha! — Miss Edith, on your interest 
in the meeting, or — ah! — in me, to suppose you 
were pleased.” 

“By no means, Mr. Christie! I was really 
glad to see you there — for your sake as well as 
the meeting’s.” 

“Ah! thank you.” 

“I was glad to see you so interested in the 
services, Mr. Christie, especially in the singing.” 

“How could I fail — ha! ha! — Miss Edith, to 
be interested in singing — ha! ha! — when — O! 


220 


MR. CHRISTIE. 


221 


ah! — you contributed so largely — ha! ha! — to 
its excellence. . What would they do, Miss 
Edith, without your voice? — ha! ha! I distin- 
guished that — ha! ha! — in the midst of all the 
others !” 

“Thank you, Mr. Christie; but I am sure 
you give me too much praise. Did you not 
notice how Miss Jessup and cousin Josie sang? 
What a beautiful alto Miss Jessup’s is!” 

“I did not notice it — O! ah! — of course, I 
know, in a general way — ha! ha! — Miss Jessup’s 
voice is fine; but — ha! ha! — not to be men- 
tioned — ha! ha! — if you will pardon me, at the 
same time — O! ah! — with your own.” 

“But is not Mr. Outwright splendid?” 

“In what way, Miss Edith? I am not — ha! 
ha! — very familiar with points of excellence — 
ha! ha! — in clergymen. Now, if it was — O! 
ah ! — spiritus frumenti or morphia , or something 
like that — ha! ha! — I would know.” 

“Or horses, Mr. Christie!” 

“Spare me, Miss Edith! I am not — ha! 
ha! — doting on horses at present — ha! ha! — 
Miss Edith; for— O! ah! — you know, yourself, 
my feelings on that subject.” 

“Yes; I know what were your feelings when 
I helped your mother nurse you through your 
hurts and breaks.” 

“Do you really — ha! ha! — Miss Edith, 


222 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


know — ha! ha! — my feelings — O! ah! — when 
you were so kind as to help me through — ha! 
ha! — those long, dreary hours?” 

“And were they dreary, after all? You have 
told me several times they were not ; that you 
did not mind being shut in !” 

“Did I, truly, Miss Edith? O! ah! — then — 
ha! ha! — I must reaffirm my declaration. It was 
dreary at times; but — ha! ha! — of course, you 
could not have known that — ha! ha! — for — O! 
ah! — you were not there at such times.” 

“Do you not drive any more at all, Mr. 
Christie? I am very fond of driving. I can not 
get papa to go with me nearly so often as I 
would like.” 

“No, Miss Edith — ha! ha! — I have disposed 
of my horse. The carriage, you know — ha! 
ha! — was quite effectually — ha! ha! — disposed 
of at the time of the mishap. But perhaps I 
will — O! ah! — find a gentler horse, and then — 
ha! ha! — but O, by the way, Miss Edith, if you 
leel perfectly safe in driving, and only lack com- 
pany, and — ha! ha! — if Mr. Lysander can not 
take time from his office to go with you — ha! 
ha! — I should be happy — ha! ha! — to have 
you — O! ah! — accept me as a substitute — ha! 
ha ! — a very inadequate one, I am sure, but bet- 
ter than none — ha! ha! — if I may be so pre- 
sumptuous as to say so — ha! ha!” 


MR. CHRISTIE. 


223 


“ O, I am a splendid driver, Mr. Christie ! I 
really believe if I had been with you that time 
your accident happened, I could have pre- 
vented it.” 

“Do you, truly? Then I am very sorry I 
did not — O ! ah ! — have the pleasure of your 
company.” 

“But if you hadn’t been hurt, I would not 
have been called to nurse you, and would never 
have learned what I did about drugs and drug- 
gists’ supplies, and would never have learned so 
many awfully hard names, and — ” 

“O! ah! Miss Edith, I should have been 
only too happy to teach you all that without 
being laid up for six weeks. Ha ! ha ! I am 
sure I could teach you now — ha ! ha ! — much 
better than when suffering so much from bruises 
and cuts — ha! ha! — if you care to learn.” 

“ O, I only learned then to please you ! I was 
to entertain you, you know ; and when I saw it 
pleased you to have me learn, I did it.” 

“ But it would — ha ! ha ! — please me now to 
have you go right on learning. Ha ! ha !” 

“ But you are not sick now, Mr. Christie, and 
do not need to be humored.” 

“I am never — O! ah! — very well, Miss 
Edith — ha ! ha ! — and — ” 

“Have you thought of consulting a physician, 
Mr. Christie ? Think of your mother ! What 


224 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


if you should die, and leave her alone in the 
world ?” 

“I do think of that, Miss Edith; and — O! 
ah ! — I often think of myself, if she should die, 
and leave me alone in the world. That would 
be worse, you must — O ! ah ! — allow, Miss 
Edith.” 

“That would be aw.'ul ! What would you 
do, Mr. Christie, it that should happen? Your 
mother has been with you so long, you would 
surely miss her greatly.” 

“Not so very long — ha! ha! — Miss Edith; 
but I would miss her greatly. Ha ! ha ! I get 
very miserable sometimes, Miss Edith, thinking 
about losing her, and — ” 

“ Mr. Christie ! I never supposed you were 
miserable a day in your life. You are always 
so cheerful and lull of humor, always laughing, 
and — ” 

“Ah! Miss Edith, you do not know — ha! 
ha ! — how many miserable days I have put in 
since that accident. Betore that time — ha ! ha ! — 
I was tolerably contented — ha ! ha ! — but since 
then, somehow, I have lost interest in — O! ah! — 
nearly everything, and time hangs heavy — ha ! 
ha ! — on my hands. Now, do you suppose 
you — ” 

“Let me sing you a song I learned to-day. 
That may cheer you.” 


MR. CHRISTIE. 


22 $ 


“Thanks! Do!” 

“It is ‘The Song that Reached my Heart.’ 
Do yon know it ?” 

“No, I do not. Perhaps it will reach mine, 
too. Ha ! ha ! Indeed, of that — O ! ah ! — I am 
quite certain, if you sing as you did last night.” 

“Do you know ‘Marguerite,’ Mr. Christie?” 

“Marguerite who? That is not your friend’s 
name who was here from Kentucky?” 

“O no! It is the name of a very popular 
song.” 

“O! ah! I see! Ha! ha! No, I do not 
know ‘Marguerite.’ ” 

“Shall I sing it for you, too?” 

“ I should be too happy, Miss Edith. Ha ! ha! 
Shall I turn the music for you? Is the light — 
O! ah! — just right, Miss Edith? Ah! beg par- 
don! Eet me adjust the stool for you. It was 
quite careless in me — ha ! ha ! — not to offer to 
do that. Is that quite as you would have it? 
Ha! ha!” 

“Thank you! You are very kind.” 

“ But Miss Edith — O ! ah ! — you can hardly 
guess — ha ! ha ! — what pleasure it is to be kind 
to — O ! ah ! — to — ha ! ha ! — to you!” 

“ Hold on, Mr. Christie ! I have n’t played 
half of the prelude yet. You read music, do 
you not?” 

“Yes, Miss Edith — ha! ha! — when I have 


226 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


nothing better — ha! ha! — to read; but just now, 
I — O ! ah ! — find it hard to keep my mind on 
the notes. Ha ! ha ! Your pardon, please ! 
Ha! ha!” 

“ Do not mention it !” 

“But, Miss Edith — O! ah! — please permit 
me to mention something else — ha ! ha ! — that 
troubles me more than — O ! ah ! — forgetting to 
turn the music, if I may be so bold?” 

“Certainly, and you shall see how sympa- 
thetic a friend I can be !” 

“That is it, Miss Edith— O ! ah! Ha ! ha ! 
I need a friend — ha ! ha ! — a sympathetic friend, 
and I hoped — ha ! ha ! — you would be a friend 
to me in this trouble. Ha ! ha !” 

“Shall I sing this song first?” 

“Just as you please — ha ! ha ! — but — O ! ah ! — 
I could come again to hear the songs, if I may 
be — O! ah! — so bold!” 

“I should be glad to have you — come again.” 

“I certainly will, if I may; but, as I was 
saying, I — ha ! ha ! — do -not feel that I have 
ever — O ! ah ! — adequately or suitably expressed 
my gratitude for your kind care of me — ah ! — 
when I was laid up by that accident.” 

“ Please, do not mention it. It was nothing.” 

“ But I must mention it, Miss Edith. I shall 
have no peace until I do mention it. If I 
thought you would not be offended, and would 


MR. CHRISTIE. 


227 


accept what I would offer, I should — ha! ha! — 
be happy to show you how truly, truly, I appre- 
ciate your kindness, gentleness, goodness, help- 
fulness, and even sweetness — O! ah! — if I may 
be so bold !” 

“ There! there! Mr. Christie, do not hunt up 
any more adjectives! If it will please you, I 
certainly will be glad to accept any slight token 
of your appreciation.” 

“It is a slight token, Miss Edith; but I beg 
you to accept it. It will make me very happy 
to know you do accept it, Miss Edith. O ! ah ! 
let me offer you — begging you to accept the 
gift — let me offer you — offer you — my — my- 
self !” 

“Stand up, Mr. Christie! Do, please, stand 
up! Quick! Papa is coming down the stairs!” 

“Ah, Mr. Christie! My wife has just in- 
formed me of your contemplated call to-night, 
and I ran down to make a few brief inquiries 
concerning the present status of the political 
campaign, and the apparent possibilities of Mr. 
Morrison’s election to the Legislature.” 

“I beg pardon — ha! ha! — Mr. Lysander, for 
not answering your question — ha ! ha ! — for in 
the present state of my mind — ha! ha! — I may 
not — O! ah! — give a clear account — ha! ha! — 
of the outlook — ha ! ha ! — I have a case on hand 
that has troubled me greatly for some time, and 


228 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


I feel that I must call on you for counsel — per- 
haps for pleadings.” 

“Ah ! I am at your service, Mr. Christie, and 
will take your case in hand at once, if you desire.” 

“I — O! ah! — have been pleading — ha! ha! — 
myself, but — O ! ah ! — without much success. 
Ha ! ha ! You will remember, Mr. Lysander, I 
have your consent — ha ! ha ! — but — O ! ah ! — 
Miss Edith — ” 

“Ah! that case! In that case, Mr. Christie, 
you must consider me as retained to carry the 
cause to a higher court ; but at present I must 
leave you to make your own arguments. Good- 
night !” 

“And I, Mr. Christie, must ask you to ex- 
cuse me — ” 

“And do you reject me?” 

“I do not.” 

“Then do you accept me?” 

“I do not.” 

“Must I go without an answer?” 

“You must — to-night.” 

“And may I — O! ah! — may I — may I come 
again ?” 

“You may !” 

“May I speak to Mr. Lysander?” 

“Certainly; I will send him down. Good- 
’ night?” 

“Good-night !” 


XXL 


A POLITICAL SCHEME. 

“T^TELLO!” 

-V 1 “Hello!” 

The first greeting was spoken in a bright, 
energetic manner, which betokened interest and 
hope, as Sam Slimkins threw open the door of 
Wendell Morrison’s office. 

The reply was uttered in a careless and half- 
smothered tone that indicated extreme indiffer- 
ence on the part of the young lawyer. Una- 
bashed and undaunted by the coolness of his 
reception, Slimkins advanced to Wendell’s desk, 
and, uninvited, drew up a chair, and, when 
seated, slapped the attorney on the knee, and 
said : 

“I ’ve got it !” 

“Well, what is it worth, now you ’ve ‘ got it ?’ ” 
Wendell asked, with a slight frown darkening his 
eyes, and a rasping emphasis jarring his words. 

“It is worth a million to you ; but how much 
to me, I have n’t found out yet.” 

“Slimkins, did you ever come to me in your 
life without the thought of making a gain out of 
me ? I ’d give half I am worth for a friend who 
16 229 


230 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


was n’t a friend for the money there is in it — just 
for one hand’s-tnrn out of pure friendship, with 
no thought of financial reward. I am sick to 
death of bribes !” 

Wendell spoke vehemently, and punctuated 
his words with terrible oaths, picking up and 
flinging down with vengeance the various ar- 
ticles on his desk by way of exclamation points. 

“You’ve made your own bed,” Sam replied, 
with imperturbable calmness. 

For a reply to this thrust, Wendell was con- 
tent to scowl at him fiercely. 

“And just let me ask you,” Sam went on, 
after a moment’s silence, “just let me ask you, 
when did you ever come to me without having 
a scheme or a dirty job yon wanted me to work 
out for you ? A nice man you are to talk about 
pure friendship !” 

“Shut up! Go on with what you came to 
tell me,” Wendell said, with impatience, as he 
rearranged the papers on the desk he had a mo- 
ment before scattered in his wrath. 

“ Thad is dying to go to the State Senate.” 

“Tell me something I don’t know.” 

“O, you know that, do yon?” Sam said, sar- 
castically. “ Well, if you know all about it, I 
need n’t tell you. Good-day !” 

He arose, and strode toward the door. 

“ Come back !” Wendell said. “ Sit down here. 


A POLITICAL SCHEME. 


231 


I want to talk to you about other matters. What 
else do you know ?” 

By this time his manner had changed en- 
tirely, and his voice was soft and smooth as a 
lover’s, and his bearing as gentle as a woman’s. 

“Well, what I was going to say,” Sam re- 
plied, resuming his chair, “ is, that you must 
make Thad believe you do not want to go to 
the State Senate, but would like to have the 
nomination for Congress.” 

“But I do want to go to the State Senate, 
and there is no chance of my getting the Con- 
gressional nomination.” 

“Of course, you want to go to the State Sen- 
ate, and yon will go there, too ; but if Thad be- 
lieves you do not want it, he will announce 
himself as a candidate, and — ” 

“And get the nomination!” 

“Not by a big sight!” 

“What’s to hinder, if I am out of the way?” 

“Can’t you see further than your nose ? O, 
come off ; and talk like the man you are, and not 
like a school-boy.” 

“ You are to make this scheme plain to me. Go 
ahead, and let me play unsuspecting innocence.” 

“Well, if you make Thad think you do not 
want to go to the State Senate, and let us fellows 
know that you do want to go, we will see that 
you get there.” 


232 AN ODD FELLO W. 

“For a consideration, of course?” Wendell 
said, with an ill-concealed sneer. 

“You bet your sweet life ! What are we here 
for but for money?” 

“Well, go on.” 

“When he finds you are off on the Senate, 
he will make the Banner red-hot for you for 
Congress.” 

“Will he?” 

“He said he would — told Judge Tracy so in 
my presence.” 

“ Good ! Go on.” 

“Just before the Convention, say the day be- 
fore, come out yourself for the Senate, and us 
fellows will have things fixed to sweep every 
delegate, except a few from outside towns, into 
your line, and there yon are ; but where on earth 
will Thad be? Scooped! Snowed under ! De- 
feated ! Crushed ! Ground to powder ! Blown 
away ! Everything yours !” 

“ Wise head, Sam ! It shall be as you say ; 
for that is just what I was thinking about 
doing !” 

“Yes, you were !” very sarcastically. “ That 
is what made you so all-fired happy when I 
came in !” 

“ Not thinking of it this morning, I admit, 
but before this.” 

“ Then, from this on, the Banner is to boom 


A POLITICAL SCHEME. 


233 


you for Congress ; and we are to pat Thad on 
the back for the State -Senate, and knife him in 
the caucuses? Everything is fair in war, eh?” 

Sam arose, and towered over Wendell, who 
could not but admire his fine physique, however 
much he loathed his deformed spirit. 

With noiseless step Seth Russell had climbed 
the stair just after Sam Slimkins, and, pausing 
for a moment at the entrance, he could see 
through the clear spaces between the frosting 
on the glass of the upper half of the door who 
were the occupants of the office, and hearing 
through the transom, which was ajar, the name 
of his dear friend’s son, he listened to what was 
said, and thanked God he had been sent to 
hear. 

As Sam Slimkins passed out, Seth Russell 
passed in, not forgetting, however, to make a 
profound bow to the tall schemer ; not out of re- 
spect, but to hide the flashing of his eye as his 
heart burned with strong indignation against 
him. But Seth was master of his spirit, and his 
body as well; so when he raised his eyes to Wen- 
dell’s, they were twinkling with mirth instead of 
flashing with wrath, as a moment before. But 
the mirthful twinkle was a mask behind which 
was hidden the fire of fierce resentment. Seth 
had learned to wear a mask early in life. It 
was never worn by him for evil purposes — only 


234 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


for serving unselfish purposes; only for discov- 
ering and thwarting unholy conspiracies. 

“The sun shines not more serenely this cloud- 
less day than does your face this moment. I 
hope peace reigns within !” As he concluded 
he made a low bow to Wendell, a counterpart 
of the one he made Sam Slimkins. 

Wendell smiled upon the old man, and ex- 
pected a smile in return ; but when Seth lifted 
his eyes to Wendell’s, they were like balls of 
fire in the intensity of their glow, and burned 
into his heart like the focused rays of the sun 
through the microscope. Instantly the smile 
faded, peace departed, the sun darkened, and 
Wendell felt chilled ; but he knew not why, and 
he wished Seth had not come in. The change 
was noted by the old man ; and having satisfied 
himself of his power, he cared not to use it fur- 
ther at that time, and the soft light of forbear- 
ance followed the glare that had pierced Wen- 
dell’s guilty soul. What a relief it was to 
Wendell ! 

“ Yes, I have peace within,” he said, having 
found words to reply to Seth's salutation. “ Why 
shouldn’t I? Isn’t virtue its own reward, 
Seth ?” 

“ It is, it is, my son ! Take the advice of an 
old man, who has traversed the rough ways of 
life too long to be deceived by appearances, and 


A POLITICAL SCHEME. 


235 


seek only such things as conscience can com- 
mend ! Love is not blind, as heathens declare ; 
for God is love, and his eye is everywhere ! 
Who wears the mask of love to serve the devil 
in, will find the devil in all the love he gains !” 

“What’s new about town?” Wendell asked, 
wishing to switch the old man off his moralizing 
track. 

“ ‘ There is nothing new under the sun,’ Sol- 
omon said, and so I find it. ‘ Though hand 
join in hand, the wicked shall not go unpun- 
ished.’ ” 

“ Somebody will have a big contract on hand 
to carry that out,” Wendell said, with a forced 
laugh. “ Besides, you know, Seth, you must 
catch the hare before you skin it!” 

“ Men are not hares, my son, and God is not 
man ! Mark that. God can punish the wicked 
while they run — their running may be their 
punishment !” 

“ Running for office, I suppose you mean,” 
Wendell said, with another forced laugh. 

“ Perhaps ! ‘ The race is not to the swift, 

nor the battle to the strong.’” 

“But the office is for the man who gets the 
most votes. You can not deny that, old fellow.” 

“ I can, and do ! Throckmorton got the most 
votes for county treasurer; but he did not get 
the office.” 


236 AN ODD FELLOW. 

“ Thad’s father, you mean?” 

Yes.” 

“Ah! that was before my day. I do not 
know anything about ancient politics.” 

“ But there are scores of us old graybeards 
who do know about ancient politics, and modern 
too.” 

“ Throckmorton must have been an odd fel- 
low, if he was anything like Thad is now,” Wen- 
dell said, meditatively. 

“ He was an odd fellow, and no mistake !” 

“You knew him, then?” 

“ Knew and loved him like a brother ; and I 
love every one who bears his name !” 

“ Thad wants to be senator — State senator, 
you know.” 

“ He shall have my vote ; and influence too, 
for that matter.” 

“As against me?” Wendell said, with well- 
assumed surprise. 

“ As against anybody !” 

“ O, well,” Wendell said, resignedly, “ I guess 
I have had sufficient honor in that line. If I 
can’t get it, I should like to see Thad have it.” 

“Have what?” asked Judge Tracy, who at 
that moment entered the office. 

“ The State senatorship, Judge.” 

“ It would be poor policy to spoil a good ed- 


A POLITICAL SCHEME. 


237 


itor to make a poor legislator,” the judge said, 
smilingly, as he passed into his private office. 

“Or to spoil a good congressman to make a 
poor senator,” Seth added, in a loud voice, and 
then quickly left the office. 

His remark cut like a two-edged sword, 
wounding both Judge Tracy and his partner; 
Wendell Morrison, not seriously, to be sure ; but 
the ‘ blood followed the blade,’ and both were 
uneasy for an hour over the remark of the old 
man, though both counted him as naught in 
party movements. Wendell felt that the remark 
was a thrust at his congressional aspirations, 
and a backward stroke at his past legislative 
record. Judge Tracy felt it was a blow at his 
senatorial plans, intimating that to be congress- 
man was enough for him ! 

It is surprising how Mordecai can annoy 
Haman ! It is surprising how Mordecai tri- 
umphs over Haman — and yet not surprising 
when God is with Mordecai ! 

“ Here is a note,” the judge said, coming out 
of his office, “that Josie asked me to hand you. 
I forgot it when I came in.” 

Wendell sprang to his feet to receive the 
note, and bowed his thanks. 


XXII. 


A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE. 

HERE were only a few people in Bramble- 



ville who knew the facts in the matter of 


Thaddeus Throckmorton’s parentage. Silly gos- 
sip had been indulged in from time to time by 
envious or inconsiderate neighbors concerning 
the disappearance of Mr. Throckmorton, and it 
was to the alleged cause of his disappearance 
that Mrs. Jessup referred when attempting to 
dissuade Jennie from receiving his son’s atten- 
tions. There is not much to the story, and the 
details may as well be given now as later. 

Mr. Throckmorton, at that time an ambitious 
but highly sensitive young lawyer, partner in 
business with Judge Tracy, had been elected 
county treasurer by a good majority of votes. At 
least so it appeared from the unofficial returns 
given out by the clerks of the several voting pre- 
cincts. There was great rejoicing among the 
young lawyer’s friends, and among all the voters 
of his party ; for he was the only candidate on 
their ticket who was elected, and his election was 
the first break in the continuous control of all 
county affairs by the opposition. For several 
days, or from the time of closing the polls and 


238 


A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE. 239 

counting the votes to the time of the official can- 
vass of the returns by the County Board, great 
demonstrations of delight were indulged in by 
Throckmorton and his friends. It was a cold 
and blustering day in early November when the 
County Board sat, at night, to complete their 
work, which had been begun in the forenoon. 
They were in the main room of the old court- 
house in Brambleville, just within the bar, the 
inclosure around the judge’s bench reserved for 
use of attorneys during court sittings. 

Several candles on the table at which they 
were sitting furnished all the light in the room. 
A number of spectators, representatives of both 
parties, stood outside the railing and watched 
the proceedings. Suddenly a window was 
thrown open, and a gust of wintry wind swept 
through the room, putting out the lights, blowing 
papers about, and leaving all in darkness. Then 
followed confusion, overturning chairs, and many 
an oath and complaint. Finally the window was 
closed, the candles relighted, and it was seen that 
all the canvassers were present, as were all the 
spectators; but the tally-sheet, the poll-book, and 
the ballot-box from the precinct of Brambleville, 
which had given Throckmorton his majority, 
were gone! 

Then arose a wrangle. From laughing re- 
marks about the strength of the wind, seeing it 


240 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


had spirited away a heavy ballot-box, the con- 
troversy grew serious, after the room had been 
searched, and no trace of box, book, or sheet 
was found. Then Throckmorton and his friends 
abandoned their first suspicion, that some wag 
had hidden them during the temporary dark- 
ness, and that it was accidental that the box 
that gave him his majority was the one gone. 
Angry words were quickly followed by threats 
of personal violence. In hot resentment for an 
insulting remark, Throckmorton rushed upon 
the chairman of the Board, felled him to the 
floor, and pounded him to insensibility before 
he could be delivered out of the hand of his 
assailant. Rejecting the advice of his friends, 
and believing he had most rashly and foolishly 
maimed and disfigured, if not mortally wounded, 
his victim, Throckmorton, with a hasty good- 
bye to his young wife, left Brambleville “ until 
the storm should blow over.” The injuries the 
chairman received were slight, and the next day 
he laughed about the affair, and said he would 
never have made such a remark about so 
straight a man as Throckmorton had he not 
been drinking freely, and was a little excited 
over the election anyway. In a short time, 
though the missing box was never found, and 
Throckmorton’s opponent was “counted in,” 
peace prevailed, and the affair was looked upon 


A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE. 


241 


as a dead subject by all except one — and that 
one was the young wife who became a mother 
after a few months — for all said, “ He will come 
back,” and his political friends predicted an- 
other victory for him at the next election ! 

But he never came back ! The West was a 
wilderness then, unbroken by railway, and un- 
touched by telegraph. It was easy for one to 
lose himself, and to be buried from sight and 
hearing as effectually while living as when dead. 

Gossips, as the years rolled by, forgetting 
the political wrangle, but remembering the fact 
that Judge Tracy, then a young lawyer like 
Throckmorton, and unmarried, was a welcome 
guest in the happy home of his partner, most 
cruelly and falsely bandied the name of the 
young mother, and pursued the child and the 
subsequent man with malignant innuendo. 

But for no second of time in all those years 
did Seth Russell lose confidence in his beloved 
friend, the absent lawyer, nor fail to follow his 
cjpild, and afterward the man, with his prayers 
and his protection. Not a Sabbath afternoon 
went by without bringing Seth to the home of 
Mrs. Throckmorton for a few minutes’ chat, and 
a flood of wild but very soothing prophecies of 
future bliss and fame for both father and son! 
“ For, I tell you, he is not dead,” he would say 
as a parting word each time. “ If he were, I 


242 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


would feel it here” striking his hand repeatedly 
upon his breast. “ He will come back !” 

Mrs. Throckmorton had come to count her 
husband as on the other shore, and listened to 
Seth’s oft-told faith as one would listen to the 
tale of a wandering mind. 

Sometimes Seth would become very fatherly 
in his manner, and in soft tones would say : 

“ Never marry, my dear Mrs. Throckmorton. 
It would be awkward for you, if you should, 
when he comes back. 

“ No, no ! He will not come to me, but I 
shall go to him.” 

“But is he not here now?” he would say, 
excitedly. “ Surely, surely, my dear woman, 
your heart tells you he is here ; not over there ! 
Is he not in your heart?” 

“ I have him in my heart every hour, Mr. 
Russell. And do you know I can not think of 
him as old ? He must be old now, you know, 
and gray as I am ; but I think of him as young 
and strong, as lithe and gay. I hear him speak 
in round, full tones. I see him walk with 
steady step and erect form. Though my hair 
is gray, I think of his as clustering in black 
curls about his head. Though I wear glasses, 
I imagine his eye flashes as in those other days 
when we were so happy together !” 

“To be sure! to be sure ! That is love ! Ah! 


A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE. 


243 


you know ! Love never grows old. How can 
love be old ? 1 God is love.’ And love is like 

God’s mercies — new every morning.” 

“What a philosopher you are, Mr. Russell!” 

“Not at all, not at all, my dear woman. Far 
from it. I am no philosopher. I do not go 
about, trying to find the whys and wherefores. 
But let me tell you ! I have found a fountain 
of perpetual youth. The same that the Span- 
iards looked for in the New World centuries 
ago — looked for, but never found, because they 
searched through hills and vales. It is not 
there. It is in God’s Word. Like Paul, I be- 
lieve all the law and the prophets. Not a little 
here and a little there ; but ally 

“I am sure you do. And I believe you are 
just as young in thought and feeling as when 
first I knew you, thirty years ago.” 

“Younger, younger, my dear woman. I am 
younger to-day than then by a score of years. 
My heart is with children now as never before.” 

“ By the way, have you noticed Tingleman’s 
children lately ?” 

“Noticed them? How could I fail to notice 
anything in your family? They are bright 
boys — just like their mother. She was a jewel.” 

“Did you know her well?” 

“Know her? Didn’t I see her baptized 
when not more than three months old ? Did n’t 


244 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


I know her mother? Wasn’t her mother an 
own cousin to Judge Tracy?” 

“ Mr. Russell !” Mrs. Throckmorton exclaimed, 
in genuine surprise. “ You do not mean that 
these Tingleman boys belong to the Tracy 
family ?” 

“That is just what I mean. And why not? 
Do they dishonor their stock? Not a bit of it. 
Tingleman is a scamp, no doubt ; but his wife 
and his wife’s mother are of royal blood ; and 
blood tells, Mrs. Throckmorton, though years 
intervene and providences seem to go awry.” 

“But do you suppose Judge Tracy and his 
wife and Miss Josie know who these children 
are ?” 

“To be sure. What would you have them 
do? Not take the children, surely — not while 
you live? I would not, and the Father above 
would not; you would not, and Judge Tracy 
would not ; and so it is all harmonious, though 
so very inharmonious when you come to con- 
sider the reasons. You would not, because you 
love the children ; the Father above would not, 
because he has prepared your heart and home 
for just this purpose; Judge Tracy would not, 
for his wife and daughter do not wish to be 
bothered ; and I would not, because I see what 
gems you are making out of these rough stones. 
So all are harmonious, but each has a different 


A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE. 


245 


reason for doing just what the Father wants 
done.” 

“You are a philosopher, Mr. Russell.” 

“No, no, no! not a philosopher, but simply 
a believer in God’s Word — the L,aw and the 
Prophets — as was Paul. His law is perfect, 
converting the soul ; his testimonies are sure, 
making wise the simple. I am a simple old 
man — I . mean young man — but I am wise be- 
cause I believe God’s Word. He says, ‘All 
things work together,’ and I believe it.” 

And so it was. Though Seth Russell knew 
the source of his strength and his wisdom, he 
little dreamed how very strong he was, nor how 
wise, as he went forward, day by day, trusting 
God, and doing with his might what his hands 
found to do. 

Nor did Wendell Morrison, nor Sam Slim- 
kins, know, until too late, how the foolish things 
confound the wise, and the things that are not 
bring to naught the things that are ) when God 
is with the foolish and when he is with the 
weak ! 


17 


XXIII. 

PLOTS. 

ENDEEL MORRISON was fully cotn- 



^ ^ mitted to two objects. The one was 
election to the State Senate, and the other the 
wedding of Miss Josie Tracy. These two ac- 
complished, he felt he would then be prepared 
for further political advancement. One man 
only stood in his way — Thaddeus Throckmor- 
ton — and he stood in both paths. 

To defeat Thaddeus politically, as already 
shown, Morrison could trust to the maneuvers 
of Sam Slimkins, assisted by the chief of police 
and his subordinates. To thwart his desires 
and plans matrimonially, he dared not leave the 
work to any other. Nor was any scheme too 
hazardous for him to undertake in his contest 
for the hand and heart of Miss Tracy. For this 
reason, when she invited him to assist her in 
making out a program for an active canvass of 
the county in the cause of temperance, he cheer- 
fully and promptly complied, and even consented 
to become the principal speaker at the majority 
of the township meetings which the program 
provided for. 

It must be understood that at that time tem- 
246 


PLOTS. 


247 


perance agitation had not seriously disturbed 
the political parties. Indeed, its advocates 
sought the individual reformation of the drinker, 
rather than the suppression of dram-selling. It 
had never occurred to the temperance people 
that the end sought could best be attained 
through political organizations, and by way of 
the ballot-box. Nevertheless, he must be a 
courageous politician who would antagonize the 
saloon element by boldly and publicly espousing 
the temperance cause. 

Wendell Morrison had no lack of courage, 
and hence was never deterred from any course 
by fear of popular disapproval. He trusted al- 
ways to his skill in managing men, and calcu- 
lated with surprising faith to ride to place and 
power on the reacting wave of sentiment that 
follows every tide of opposition to the right. 

He foresaw the burst of derision and the 
storm of dissent that would greet his participa- 
tion in the temperance crusade, and calmly 
counted the chances of his stemming the cur- 
rent until it should flow back, and put him 
where he longed to be — in Judge Tracy’s fam- 
ily, and in the State Senate. Consequently he 
was prepared for Sam Slimkins when he rushed 
into his office, exclaiming : 

“All the gods in heaven and all the devils 
on earth can’t save you if you do n’t cancel 


248 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


these dates !” holding out a copy of the Banner , 
in which were printed the places and dates of 
the rallies for temperance reform. 

“I am depending on mortals, and not on the 
gods, Sam, and have learned that mortals are 
very subject to moods, and are not often con- 
trolled by cool judgment ; and yet the worst 
men have a vein of virtue that is like gold in 
the rock — the most valuable and the most easily 
worked of all their nature, though not the most 
prominent.” 

“A part of your speech, I suppose?” Sam 
said, with a sneer, as he sat down near the 
young attorney. 

“Perhaps so. I have not yet decided just 
what I will say.” 

“Have some sense, Morrison ! Here we have 
worked every whisky man in the county to op- 
pose Throckmorton because he is a temperance 
crank, and you come along and spoil it by be- 
coming a crank yourself! I tell you, the jig is 
up unless you cancel the dates, and say the pub- 
lication was unauthorized. Geeminy crickets, 
Morrison ! I have just thought of it ! Do that, 
Morrison, and we can make it appear that 
Throckmorton published the dates in his paper 
to kill you with the saloon people. The tem- 
perance folks already know you drink like a 
fish, even when you are spouting for them.” 


PLOTS. 


249 


“But I have signed the pledge, Sam, and do 
not intend to drink another drop — until after 
the election.” 

“Yes, you have!” Sam said, with a tone of 
incredulity. 

“Fact. I am going to work the goody-goody 
voters, and want you and the boys to look after 
the bums. See?” 

“I see; but, Morrison, you are a blasted 
fool ! What do you want to cater to the God- 
and-morality people for? You know they are 
solid for the party. If the whisky men get 
mad, no power on earth can hold them. It is 
business with them — dollars and cents.” 

“Do n’t I know all that, Sam ? Trust me to 
bring this out all right. I want to get talked 
about. The whisky men will damn me awhile; 
but when I put up my money for all the liquor 
the floaters can drink, they will see how very 
shallow is my conversion to temperance. But 
for awhile I must stay away from saloons, and 
you can put it down that I will not hurt their 
business in my speeches.” 

“That is all very nice on paper, or in your 
mind ; but it won’t work. Let the whisky men 
learn once that you are actually in the field 
against them, making speeches here and there 
and everywhere, and it will take a year to get 
them to see what you really are at.” 


250 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“Not correct, Sam. It might take a year for 
me to establish myself as a true convert to the 
temperance cause ; but say, you old fool, one 
big drunk would put me back, safe and sound, 
on the broad-gauge of old 'times. See ? It is 
hard working up to the God-and-morality plane, 
but I can get down in the twinkle ot an eye.” 

“Well, what shall I do?” 

“For the present, kind o’ turn a cold shoul- 
der to me publicly ; but see that things are 
kept boiling where the boys are. Come up to- 
night, and bring a lot of the fellows with you. 
I will have refreshments of a proper kind on 
hand, and we can play for a small consideration 
until good retiring time — say three or four A. M. 
See? Our morality campaign does not begin 
until next week.” 

“All right. A dozen or more of the boys 
will be up to-night. Shall I tell Billy not to 
‘pull us?’” 

“Tell him,” Wendell said, laughing at the 
mere suggestion of the chief of police arresting 
the proposed gambling party, “ tell him to come 
up about nine, and to bring a corkscrew with 
him. That is all the pulling he will care about 
having a hand in.” 

“And Andy, too?” 

“Yes, Andy, too. Just as well have the 
whole force here as not. Then we are sure not 


PLOTS. 


251 


to be surprised while at our game. Capture 
the officers, you know, and then they can not 
capture you.” 

The plans were all executed as indicated, and 
when midnight, with its solemn silence, hovered 
over Bratnbleville, Wendell Morrison and his 
boon companions were thumping the tables in 
his office as they threw their cards, filling the 
room with clouds of tobacco-smoke, and repeat- 
edly draining glasses that had been replenished 
with intoxicants. In the group assembled were 
law- makers, law-executors, law-judges, and yet 
all were law-breakers. Pharisees and hypocrites, 
every one ! 

The same night, in Judge Tracy’s parlors, a 
different scene was being enacted. 

When Thaddeus received by messenger the 
program Miss Josie and Wendell had prepared, 
accompanied by the usual request for publica- 
tion, he could scarcely believe his eyes. For an 
hour he struggled against the temptation to 
throw it into the waste-basket, and, by refusing 
to give publicity to the arrangement, defeat in a 
measure the scheme he believed Wendell had 
wickedly concocted for selfish purposes. He 
well knew that Mr. Montnoskin, of the Gazette , 
would never mention the proposed campaign, 
and that the Banner must be depended upon to 
advertise it. To refuse to publish it would 


252 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


offend^Morrison ; and had not Morrison sent hitn 
word that very day that he had withdrawn from 
the race for the State Senate, leaving the field 
clear to Thaddeus ? He blushed at the thought 
of his ingratitude, and mentally confessed him- 
self baser than he had ever supposed, because he 
would let Wendell’s attentions to Miss Tracy be 
grounds for withholding his support from the 
temperance work. He picked up the copy, and 
carried it to the printer, remembering, as he 
walked across the floor, that not to publish the 
program would also offend Miss Josie ; and he 
hoped to have another interview with her, if for 
no other purpose, at least to apologize for his 
hasty and impolite departure when he was last 
there. He wanted to make a reconciliation as 
easy and as certain as possible, and to publish 
the program was a step in that direction. So he 
had two good reasons, aside from his personal 
interest in the work of reformation, for giving 
the program unusual prominence in the coming 
issue of the Banner . It was published, and its 
publication and the warm editorial indorsement 
of the scheme pleased Morrison, and delighted 
Miss Tracy. 

She was delighted, because she took the 
hearty indorsement the Banner gave the cam- 
paign as evidence that Throckmorton had be- 
come reconciled to her plan to have him step 


PLOTS. 


253 


aside temporarily while she rescued Morrison 
from the habit of strong drink. 

Morrison was pleased when he read the an- 
nouncement and editorial comment, for he as- 
sumed that Thaddeus tvas conciliated by his 
feigned withdrawal from the race for State 
Senate, and he believed that he could easily 
hoodwink the young editor all through the 
contest. 

Thaddeus himself was quite satisfied when 
he glanced over his paper and noted the edito- 
rial, for it seemed to be evidence that he was 
really generous and self-sacrificing. And yet, as 
he walked toward Judge Tracy’s house a lew 
hours later, he had misgivings as to the outcome 
of the matter. 

But his reception was so cordial, and so dif- 
ferent from what he had feared it would be, 
judging from the manner of their last parting, 
that he was reassured, and laughed at the fears 
that had haunted him. 

“ Thank you, ever so much,” Miss Josie said, 
as soon as she could find a place for the remark 
after ordinary greetings, “ ior the kind notice 
you gave of our temperance meetings.” 

“ Do not mention it,” Thaddeus said, for- 
mally, a sudden chill choking back the words of 
love that were trembling a moment before on 
his lips. Her thanks sounded strangely in his 


254 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


ears. Together they had worked for months 
and months in the temperance cause, and he no 
more expected thanks for that notice than for 
any other editorial comment he had written. To 
thank him as though a personal favor had been 
conferred on her, was virtually ruling him out as 
an interested party in the cause that had en- 
gaged their united energies. Then he stumbled 
over the “our,” feeling that it meant Miss Josie 
and Wendell, and not Miss Josie and himself. 

“ You will be with us, I suppose, of course,” 
Miss Josie said, brightly. 

“ Of course !” Thaddeus replied, mechan- 
ically ; but instantly realized that his lips and 
his heart were at variance. Possibly he would 
be with them for political effect ; but it would 
be a fearful departure from the truth to say he 
was with them in heart ! 

His impulse was to excuse himself as grace- 
fully as possible, and quit the place forever ; and 
yet he could not go. 

Finally he stammered, without fully under- 
standing the import of his words : 

“ Miss Josie, is this arrangement of yours 
with Wendell to continue long?” 

“ Miss Josie!” she said, smiling, repeating 
his words. “ That carries me back a great 
many months, Thad. It has been quite a time 
since you were so formal.” 


PLOTS. 


255 


“ I beg pardon, my dear, it was an uninten- 
tional return.” 

This deliberate use of a pet term seemed 
like mockery to him ; for, just then, under the 
agony of wounded pride, almost any other per- 
son was more dear to him than Miss Tracy ! 

“ Thank you !” she said, with a little laugh, 
that to Thaddeus’s distorted mind was full of 
taunting. “You are not very amiable to-night, 
Thad.” 

He quickly noticed that she had not re- 
sponded to his attempted return to the allowable 
familiarity of persons related as they were. It 
cut like a knife ; but he would not let his hurt 
appear in word or manner. Rallying all his 
forces, he held himself steady to the purpose of 
his call. 

“Josie,” he said calmly, “I know Morrison 
better than you can possibly know him — up to 
this time. I beg you, if you love me at all, not 
to receive any attention from him ; and do not 
permit yourself to be deceived by his pretended 
reform. He is — ” 

“ Thad,” she replied, interrupting him, “ I 
do not grant that you have any right — as yet — 
to dictate to me. What I have done, and what 
I am proposing to do, has my mother’s sanction, 
and her approval is all that I am — concerned 
about.” 


256 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“ Then she approves your course, knowing, 
as she does, that we are engaged ?” 

. “ She does. She leels that my influence over 
Mr. Morrison will save him from a drunkard’s 
grave. She knows that we are not to be mar- 
ried for -a long time yet ; not until you have 
been elected, you know ; for you said so your- 
self — and — that may be longer than either of us 
think. So I do not feel that it is right for me 
to refuse my help to him now. Papa is greatly 
taken up with the idea. He says, but for that 
one fault, Wendell would be as perfect a gentle- 
man as he is a brilliant and successful lawyer.” 

“ But, Josie,” Thaddeus said, gently, and with 
some of his old-time fervor of manner, “ would 
you be quite satisfied for me to make a sim- 
iliar arrangement with some one for a sim- 
ilar purpose to save her from some fearful sin, 
at the same time holding you to your promise 
to me?” 

He hoped to find by that route a way to her 
heart, but was disappointed when she answered, 
a slight flushing of her face being the only token 
that his words had touched her at all: 

“ Of course I must allow you the same free- 
dom I claim for myself. If you know of some 
one whom you can save — why, I must not 
object !” 

“Josie,” he said, with a sigh, “I hoped you 


PLOTS . 


257 


would see — I hoped your woman’s heart would 
tell you — that any one needing to be saved would 
be an unworthy companion for me. And I 
hoped you would feel in your soul how torturing 
to me is your proposed plan for rescuing Wen- 
dell. He is stronger than you, my love, and I 
tell you now, he laughs at your notion of res- 
cuing him. He does not want to be rescued. 
He wants you. O, my darling, I can not endure 
this ! Your pure soul must never be joined with 
his ! I beg of you, sweetheart, do not expose 
yourself to his wiles — to liis power. He is rich; 
he is brilliant ; he is successful ; but then he is 
a knave, and unworthy of you ! I am poor, and, 
so far, have achieved no fame, such as his ; but, 
darling, I love you, and that is more than he can 
say ! He loves only one ; but that one is Wen- 
dell Morrison !” 

Thaddeus stooped as he spoke, and took 
Josie’s hands in his, and pressed them to his 
heart. She did not resist; but he was conscious 
that no response came Irom her heart to his pas- 
sionate appeal, nor did her eyes meet his, but 
were' bent upon the floor. Wounded afresh by 
her indifference, he arose from her side, and re- 
sumed his seat, burying his face in his hands, 
and awaiting the reply. 

“ Thaddeus, what you have said ought to 
have thrilled my soul — ought to have moved 


258 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


me from my present purpose ! But it does not. 
I am quite as much surprised that it does not as 
you are wounded by my indifference. To me 
this is a revelation. I begin to doubt whether I 
have not mistaken pity for you in your strug- 
gles for love. It may be I have. Forgive me 
if I have. Yet I know I have loved you — and 
do now some, surely. And yet, because I am 
willing to let you go to save Wendell, must 
mean something.” 

“It does, Josie, it does! I see now what I 
have not seen before. It is pity, and not love 
for me. I do forgive you. Even your pity has 
been very sweet to me. It has been a light in 
many a dark hour. This is a cruel awakening, 
and yet it must be best !” 

“ It must be,” she answered simply ; for her 
heart was too uncertain in its promptings to 
permit her to say more. 

“ And yet, Josie, have we not been happy to- 
gether? And is the past to be but a memory? 
Do our paths diverge here? Will they never 
fall in the same direction again ? It is a dream, 
after all!” 

“ Do not grieve so, Thad,” she said, softly, 
with just a hint of her old-time tenderness in 
her voice. “ It is better for us both to have 
this happen now than after it is too late !” 

“But promise me one thing, Josie: By the 


PLOTS. 


259 


love I bear you, by the memory of all you have 
been to me, I beg you not to give yourself to 
Wendell. Anything but that !” 

“ I can not promise. Just now I do not 
think I ever will; for I do not believe he cares 
for me except, perhaps, as a sister, and — ” 

“ Say no more. I understand it all. Already 
his fascination holds you. Good-bye once 
more — and forever. Let no one know of this. 
I shall be too busy in the office to take any part 
in the campaign you have outlined. It is just 
as well. Good-bye!” 

Thaddeus arose, took her hand in his, clasped 
it fervently for a moment, hoped for some slight 
token of regret on her part at the parting, but 
none was given, and he silently withdrew, go- 
ing out into the starlight with an aching heart 
and a crushed spirit. 

“Whither, so wearily?” asked Seth Russell, 
stepping before him as he walked slowly home- 
ward. “ Have your enemies come upon you to 
eat you up? Hope thou in God; for thou shalt 
yet praise him ! Wait on the Lord ; be of good 
courage, and he shall strengthen thy heart. 
Wait, I say, on the Lord !” 

“ God bless you, dear friend ! You must be 
an angel in disguise. You happen upon me 
always just at the right time. I am discouraged 
to-night! I have a notion to tell you some- 


26 o 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


thing — something that I should like to tell my 
father, if I only had one to tell !” 

“Tell me, my son; tell me! In old Seth’s 
keeping, any secret is safe.” 

“It is only this: I have been engaged to 
Miss Tracy. Did you know it?” 

“ Of a truth, my son, I knew it ; but no great 
joy came to my heart on that account!” 

“But to-night — ” and Thaddeus hesitated. 
It could not be true! “But to-night,” he went 
on, “the engagement was broken, and it nearly 
kills me!” 

“So it does! Poor boy! But do not grieve. 
Do not be cast down; there are other truer 
hearts! And as to wealth, there are those who 
are wealthier, but do not know it. Now am I 
glad ! Now do I know why I wandered the 
streets to-night! It was to meet you, and to 
cheer you. It was to be made happy myseli 
by hearing this. The Lord hath delivered your 
soul from the snare of the fowler. To him be 
praise. Good-bye !” 

Quickly down a side street, Seth disappeared, 
and Thaddeus walked home with a lighter heart 
and a firmer step. “ There are those who are 
truer and wealthier,” he repeated to himself. “ I 
wonder to whom he referred ?” 

“I just came to say,” spoke Seth, as Thad- 
deus was entering his home, “ what I should 


PLOTS. 


261 


have said a little while ago. There is one who 
has a better title to the Morrison estate than 
Wendell. Let the stars sing to you, and let the 
moon smile on you. Let the sun greet you at 
dawn with his glory, for your night is passing ; 
and, behold, the day is here !” 

“What an odd fellow he is, to be sure!” 
Thaddeus said, half aloud, as he entered his 
home. “But there is a deep meaning to his 
wild words, if I could but fathom them.” 

18 


XXIV. 


TEMPERANCE MEETING. 

HE announcement that Wendell Morri- 



son was to be the principal speaker drew 


crowds of people to every meeting in the tem- 
perance campaign, as arranged by Miss Josie. 
The temperance workers were in ecstasy, be- 
cause the men they had longed for so much — 
the tipplers, and even confirmed drunkards — 
were out in large numbers, drawn thither by 
curiosity, to see and hear for themselves the 
one-time liberal and free Morrison, who had be- 
come so suddenly the champion of sobriety. 

If Miss Josie ever had a doubt of the success 
of her scheme, it was dispelled at the first meet- 
ing. Such crowds ! Such enthusiasm ! Such a 
brilliant address ! Such a perfect success ! 
There was, nevertheless, a fly in the ointment. 
Thaddeus was not there, and somehow his ab- 
sence affected her spirits strangely. She did 
not know he had had such a large part in her 
life. His absence was noted by others, and com- 
mented upon variously. 

“He is a candidate for the State Senate — or 
rather, the nomination — and he is afraid of the 
saloon men,” said one, with a sneer. “It is no 


TEMPERANCE MEETING. 263 

more than I expected. Our best men kneel to 
that element. It makes me heart-sick.” 

“I don’t believe it,” said another. “Thad- 
deus Throckmorton is too true to be guilty of 
such a fear. Let the Banner speak for him. 
Week after week it devotes column upon col- 
umn to temperance facts, and its arguments are 
telling.” 

“ But, do n’t you know,” said Captain Thomp- 
son, who had driven out to the country church, 
where the first meeting was held, as company 
for Major Morrison and wife, who were easily 
persuaded to lend the help of their presence to 
the crusade, seeing that Wendell was to take 
such a prominent part in the proceedings, “ do n’t 
you know that a ten-line editorial of Thud’s has 
more real sense, more hard-fisted argument, in 
it, don’t you know, than a whole hour of some 
men’s harangue, don’t you know?” 

“I hope — ha! ha! — Captain, you do not 
now — ah ! — refer — that is to say — ha ! ha ! — you 
do not mean — ah ! — to have us — ha ! ha ! — draw 
any inferences at the present — ha ! ha !” said 
Mr. Christie, as he leaned out of the buggy, and 
gently beat the dust off the weeds by the road- 
side with the whip ; for he had come with Miss 
Edith in her father’s buggy, driving a horse 
that could not run away if it had wanted to, 
being made proof against such a caprice by the 


264 


AN ODD FELLOW \ 


infirmities of years. Indeed, with difficulty the 
faithful old servant made the distance of ten 
miles from Brambleville to the country church, 
hopping along on two feet, and dragging the 
other two through the dust, sending a cloud of 
it into the air at every attempted lifting of the 
feet out of it as it lay three inches deep in the 
much-used highway. 

Notwithstanding this, and notwithstanding 
the fact that the meeting was well under way 
when they reached the church, Mr. Christie 
said, as he lifted Miss Edith to the ground : 

“Avery dusty drive — ha! ha! — Miss Edith, 
and — ah ! — a very heavy road ; but — ha ! ha ! — 
we made it in a remarkably short time. It 
seems but — ah ! — a short hour, when,” looking 
at his watch, “when it is now nearly noon. 
Ha! ha!” 

“ Impossible, Mr. Christie ; for we started at 
eight o’clock, and surely we have not been four 
hours coming ten miles !” 

“Beg pardon, my — Miss Edith! The watch 
has stopped. It is the same time I left your 
house last night — quarter to eleven. Ha! ha!” 

For this reason, Captain Thompson had good 
grounds for saying, in reply to a remark Mr. Chris- 
tie had addressed to him when they were discuss- 
ing the meeting just before dinner was spread: 

“But, don’t you know, Charlie, the best 


TEMPERANCE MEETING . 


265 


thing for you to do is to draw no inferences, 
do n’t you know, seeing what time you got 
here, do n’t you know? Why, we passed you 
two miles out of Brambleville, do n’t you know?” 

“Well — ha! ha! — that is a good one — ha! 
ha! — on me, Captain; but — 0! ah! — if you will 
promise — ha! ha!— not to mention it, I will tell 
you what detained us — ha! ha! — when I get 
home.” 

“Never mind; for Mr. Lysander has told me 
already, don’t you know?” 

“Ladies and gentlemen!” called the stento- 
rian voice of Wendell, as he mounted a stump 
just outside the church. “You are invited to 
repair to the beautiful grove just at hand, to 
the right, and spread your lunches on the grass. 
Arrangements have been made for supplying 
you, free of cost, with an abundance of refresh- 
ing drinks — nectar, distilled from the dews of 
heaven ; a beverage, brewed in the sweet cham- 
bers of God’s great laboratory ; a drink as pure 
as an angel’s dream, and as harmless as a dove’s 
soft cooing, — an abundant supply of cool, clear, 
delicious water .” 

So saying, he stepped down, took Miss Josie 
upon his arm, and carrying her capacious basket, 
filled with daintiest food, led the way to the des- 
ignated lunch-ground. 

Mr. Christie and Miss Edith were dissuaded 


266 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


from driving home for dinner, as was their in- 
tention when they came ; so they consented to 
join Captain Thompson and Major Morrison 
and wife, leaving Miss Josie and Wendell to 
spread their dinner under another tree, where 
they invited to lunch with them such men as 
Wendell thought would appreciate and remem- 
ber such a favor. 

“Charlie,” said Captain Thompson, as they 
slowly walked together toward the church after 
dinner, Major Morrison, his wife, and Miss Edith 
having gone on before, “it is high time, don’t 
you know, for us to take a hand, do n’t you 
know, in seeing that Thad gets the nomination 
for the State Senate? Wendell’s men, don’t 
you know, are simply doing nothing for Thad, 
though Wendell says he is out of the race, do n’t 
you know? But say, Charlie, what do you think 
of his speech for a temperance speech?” 

“Was that — ha! ha! — was that a temperance 
speech, Captain? I got in late — ha! ha! — and 
supposed he had got through with his temper- 
ance talk — ha! ha! — and — ah! — was just trying 
to please ‘the boys.’ It was good, as all Wen- 
dell says is good — ah! — but — ha! ha! — as to 
temperance — well, what / heard was as much 
astronomical as temperance.” 

“ But, do n’t you know, Charlie, I have a 
notion, do n’t you know, that Wendell is doing 


TEMPERANCE MEETING. 267 

this to make a reputation as an orator, do n’t 
you know, to catch the popular fancy, and to 
cut Thad out in the end?” 

“ Reputation, Captain? Why, he has that 
now — ha! ha! — both good and bad. But, of 
course, I see what you mean — ha! ha! — and 
must confess — ha! ha! — it looks that way. Ha! 
ha ! The knave !” 

“Hist! Here we are! Well, Mrs. Morrison, 
do n’t you know, I wish you had been along, 
do n’t you know, with the Major and me, do n’t 
you know, when we had to do our own house- 
work, don’t you know, down in Dixie?” 

And then, as they sat under the tree and 
waited for the after-dinner exercises, the major 
and the captain related bits of their army ex- 
periences, helped out by Mr. Christie, who filled 
in with the experiences of those who staid at 
home. 

The afternoon program consisted of songs 
and recitations by the children of that neigh- 
borhood. Later, the participants and the well- 
satisfied people in attendance, drove homeward; 
but among them were two restless hearts — Miss 
Josie and Wendell Morrison; for there had been 
a lack in that gathering that seriously disturbed 
the peace of mind of both. Both were sorry 
and displeased because Thaddeus was not there. 
One, because he occupied so large a place in 


268 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


her heart, though she had made herself believe 
he did not ; the other, because the Banner would 
not contain a synopsis of his address, and would 
have no warm words of commendation of the 
speaker’s style and effectiveness. Both were 
selfish motives, to be sure. 

The drive homeward was strangely silent. 
Neither cared to talk, though each tried to en- 
tertain the other. The effort was so apparently 
irksome that after awhile they agreed that they 
were too tired to be pleasant, and both were 
glad when the end was reached, and they could 
say, “Good-bye !” 

Both spent much time that night in devis- 
ing a plan by which Thaddeus would certainly 
be brought to the next meeting. 


XXV. 


APPEARANCES DECEITFUL. 

“ 7\ RE you surprised to see me?” Miss Josie 
asked, as she hurried into the Banner 
office at noon, a few days later, finding Thad- 
deus at his desk, quite alone. “Mamma is wait- 
ing for me in the carriage down-stairs. I told 
her I wanted to see you about some printing, 
and I do. Here it is. Some blank pledges for 
our next meeting. O dear!” She stopped a 
moment in her rapid talking, and then went on: 
“Running up-stairs took my breath away, and 
my heart is all a-flutter. Let me sit down a 
minute — just a minute ; for mamma will won- 
der what is keeping me. But say, Thaddeus, 
won’t you please go to our next meeting? I 
missed you so much from the last one. Please f” 
“Why should I?” he asked, rather constrain- 
edly, though his own heart was “ a-flutter,” too, 
and he had not run up-stairs, either. “I am 
not on the program, and, from what I have 
heard, you do not need me to swell the attend- 
ance or get up enthusiasm, and — ” 

He hesitated, and she exclaimed : 

“Why should you? Why, principally be- 

269 


270 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


cause / want you to go. Is not that enough ? 
It was once.” 

“So it was, Josie ; but surely, surely , you 
have not forgotten? Don’t you remember what 
you said when last we met ?” 

“I do, Thad ; but I was not myself that 
night. Come again ; I have something to tell 
you. But I must go. Good-bye ! We will look 
for you.” 

With that she was out of the door, and hur- 
rying down the steps. 

We will look for you.’ Why could she not 
have said /£” Thaddeus remarked half aloud 
and in a bitter tone, going to the window in 
time to see her enter the carriage and drive 
away. She cast a glance upward, and, seeing 
Thaddeus at the window, smiled most bewitch- 
ingly. Thaddeus was completely overcome by 
that call. He had felt himself free from the en- 
thrallment of Miss Tracy’s attractions, and was 
rejoicing in the ease with which he bore his dis- 
appointment in her; but now, in a second’s time, 
he found himself again a prisoner to her whims, 
if that term is a correct expression of her tem- 
per. At once he did what some would call a 
foolish thing. He strode to his office-door, 
locked it, and then flung himself upon a pile of 
baled paper, and groaned out a prayer for strength 
and wisdom. But scarcely had he done so before 


APPEARANCES DECEITFUL. 


271 


the door was tried by some one, desiring to enter. 
Not knowing who it was, he sprang to his feet 
and called out : 

“All right ; wait a minute !” 

“Beg pardon,’’ Rev. . Mr. Outwright said. 
“Do I intrude upon your privacy? I hoped to 
find you alone at this hour, as I knew you never 
closed your office for dinner. You are troubled!” 
he exclaimed, as he noticed Thad’s wretched 
face, and thought he detected signs of tears in 
his eyes. 

“Yes, troubled, Mr. Outwright; but that is 
not new for me, and I beg you not to think 
about it. What can I do for you?” 

The last remark was accompanied by a forced 
smile, altogether unlike the usual radiance that 
illuminated Thad’s face. 

“What can / do for you? let me ask, the 
rather,” said the minister, taking Thad’s arm, 
and walking with him to his desk. 

“Nothing, my dear friend; and yet I would 
like to have your advice. Which should control 
one in this life, duty or desire, supposing the two 
to be antagonistic?” 

“ Duty,” Mr. Outwright replied, promptly. 
“Do you not recall the Divine example? He 
said, ‘ Tet it pass ;’ but added, ‘ Thy will, not 
mine.’ He desired to escape the cross, but duty 
led him thither.” 


272 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“That is what I expected you to say. It is 
what you ought to say; and yet, Mr. Outwright, 
somewhere, in the Psalms I think, it is written : 
‘ Delight thyself in the Lord, and he will give 
thee the desires of thine heart.’ ” 

“ True ; but be sure you first find delight in his 
service. That is the condition upon which we are 
to have the desires of our heart.” 

“ I see. But say, Mr. Outwright, what is one 
to do when he does not know what the desire 
of his heart is, being so divided between two or 
more objects?” 

“Miss Josie and Miss Jennie, for instance!” 
Mr. Outwright exclaimed, laughing knowingly. 
And before Thad could say a word, he added : 
“ Both are gems of the first water, and you will 
be glad always whichever you choose.” 

“ What made you say that?” Thad asked, the 
color mounting his cheeks unpleasantly. “ Do 
you observe that closely?” 

“A mountain is n’t hard to see, my brother, 
and practice makes perception acute. But par- 
don the pleasantry. What objects divide your 
heart now — the State Senate and the Banner? 
I confess I will dislike to see you elected if the 
Banner must lose you ; and yet, in all sincerity, 
I hope you will be elected ; for the State needs 
you.” 

“ The election will be certain if I am nomi- 


APPEARANCES DECEITFUL. 


273 


nated, for the district is very safe our way, you 
know.” 

“ But you have no opposition, have you, for 
nomination?” 

“ None visible ; but I have learned to be very 
suspicious of some people I could name. Quiet- 
ness does not always mean peace.” 

“Whom do you fear?” 

“ Morrison !” 

“Ah ! do you ? Then you know ! I came 
up for no other purpose than to put you on your 
guard. I chanced to overhear a bit of conversa- 
tion in the post-office lobby to-day that set me 
to thinking. Seth Russell was there at the same 
time reading a paper; but I judge his eyes were 
not as attentive to the printed page as his ears 
were to the rather loud though whispered con- 
versation between the chief of police and Mr. 
Slimkins.” 

“ Did you hear anything of consequence ?” 

“Perhaps not; but I caught several signifi- 
cant words, and noticed a good deal of winking 
and suppressed mirth. Slimkins said, ‘ Throck- 
morton snowed under! Sweet innocence!’ and 
Barnwell said, ‘He won’t have six votes in the 
Convention ;’ but, of course, I do not know what 
he meant. It occurred to me, however, that 
they might be fooling you ; so I came, my friend, 
to put you on your guard.” 


274 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“ Thank you, ever so much ! It only con- 
firms my suspicions. But if Seth was there he 
.will give me the straight of it. What he does 
not hear, he has revealed to him, surely ; for he 
knows everything that is, has been, or is to be, 
it seems to me.” 

“ There is another thing. The Banner has 
always been a temperance advocate, and now 
that a vigorous campaign is on, I believe you 
ought to be at all of these township meetings. I 
missed you from the last one. You will not 
lose, but will gain by it. Do not let Morrison 
steal your leadership in temperance work. I 
fear his work is all for effect ; but the mass of 
the people will not see through his disguise 
until too late. Go to the next meeting, won’t 
you?” 

“I have been thinking about it. Yes, I think 
I will. Will you be there?” 

“ Unless providentially prevented. But I hin- 
der you; besides I must hurry home, as I have 
an engagement to meet. Good-day.” 

“ Father,” Thaddeus said, leaning his head 
on his desk, after Mr. Outwright left, “ I thank 
thee for this servant of thine, and the help he 
has brought me to decide what to do. Be thou 
with me in this struggle for the right !” 

That evening found Thaddeus at Judge 
Tracy’s home, a place he thought he should 














“Hello, Seth!” Thaddeus exclaimed. — Page 275 


APPEA RANCES DECEITFUL. 


275 


never again enter. The hopes his last visit had 
so cruelly crushed, had revived under the warmth 
of Miss Josie’s invitation for him to call, and the 
promise that she would tell him something, gave 
him grounds upon which to build a belief that 
she had repented of her hasty action in dismissing 
him for Wendell. 

“Excuse me,” Miss Josie said, meeting him 
at the dooor, having been warned by his well- 
known, decided, and quick step upon the stone 
walk, at the same time blushing deeply in con- 
fusion, “Mr. Morrison is in the parlor. Will you 
come in, or would you rather call some other 
time?” 

“Thank you, some other time; good-night,” 
and he was gone. Could there have been a more 
inopportune call than that? Where now were 
all his good resolutions and his adherence to 
duty, his promise to Mr. Outwright, and his be- 
lief that God was guiding his steps ? He strode 
down the walk, flung the gate open, and was in- 
tending to let it come back to its place with a 
resounding clash, when it stopped halfway, closed, 
and a voice said softly : 

“The sheep does well to seek the fold when a 
grievous wolf is around.” 

“Hello, Seth!” Thaddeus exclaimed. “Did 
you drop from heaven, or come up out of the 
ground ?” 


276 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“ From heaven, my son, and soon enough to 
see that wolf enter that home. Beware, lest his 
teeth harm you !” 

“What is the news, Seth?” Thaddeus said, 
calmly, walking toward his office with his friend, 
and, by sheer will-power, beating back the grief 
of that sudden and new disappointment. 

“Much news, son of my best beloved friend. 
You are your father’s heir ! He was the victim 
of conspiracy, and lo! you have his heritage. 
Nets are spread for your feet, and your familiar 
friend is the fowler that would ensnare thee ! 
Trust not to appearances !” 

“What now, Seth? You must drop your 
figures and tell me plainly. Who is plotting 
against me, and what can be done to thwart him?” 

“ Well asked, my son ! Morrison is secretly 
cherishing the hope of nomination for the Senate, 
though he is out for Congress. He knows that 
he will not get the Congressional nomination, but 
intends to crush you by taking the State Senate 
nomination right out of your hands in the Con- 
vention. The plan is this: Every precinct will 
instruct for you, and select delegates for Morrison. 
Instructions are wind ; but delegates are flesh and 
blood, that can eat and drink and vote. There 
it is in a nutshell !” 

“ Thank you ! Forewarned is to be forearmed. 
I will meet him on his own ground !” 


APPEARANCES DECEITFUL. 


2 77 


“Good, son of my well beloved friend! Do 
that and victory shall be yours. Never lower 
your standard. Hope thou in God. L,et Morri- 
son trust in chariots and in the multitude of his 
horses ; but put your trust in God, and get out the 
voters at the primaries /” 

“Would yon advise me to attend these tem- 
perance rallies? Morrison is the chief speaker, 
you know, at all of them.” 

“Go to all of them! He may be the chief 
speaker, but when his eloquence is forgot, people 
will remember your songs. Go and sing as never 
before ! One of your songs will outlive a hun- 
dred of his speeches. Sing — and if you can — 
mark my word, sing — and if you can find any- 
where a voice that blends with yours, and a heart 
that looks up to you as a leader, get that voice 
and that heart, and you are equipped with divine 
armor! The voice is God’s spear, the heart is his 
buckler.” 

Thaddeus was pursuing his way in silence, 
but in deep thought. When he turned to 
speak to his friend, he was nowhere in sight. 
He had noiselessly slipped away down a con- 
venient by-street, leaving Thaddeus to his own 
reflections. 

“‘A heart that looks up to me as a leader,’ ” 
he repeated. “ That can not mean Josie, for 
she has always rather exercised dominion over 
19 


2 7 8 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


me; or, if not that, has held herself beyond me. 
‘A voice that blends with mine !’ That can not 
be Josie’s; for, while our voices harmonize, they 
do not blend. Each is as distinct as gold and 
silver. ‘A voice that blends ’ — whose can that be 
but Jennie’s? ‘A heart that looks up to me as 
leader?’ Bless her! all through school-days, how 
she came to me for advice and help in her little 
troubles and in her lessons! ‘A heart that looks 
up, and a voice that blends!’ O Seth Russell, 
thou art a messenger from God ! Thou art, in 
his name, the giver of sight to the blind ! Thou 
art a liberator of the bound ! Thou art the abode 
of the Spirit of God!” 

With a lighter heart Thaddeus hurried home, 
glad that Morrison had prevented his interview 
with Miss Josie. Doubtless they were at that 
moment perfecting their plans for the continu- 
ance of their work together. If Providence would 
but open the way, the next meeting should be 
enriched by song, as well as illuminated by elo- 
quence. “Two voices that blend,” and two hearts 
that are complements will together strive for pub- 
lic favor on the same platform with two minds 
that plan, and two hearts that scheme for place 
and power. Never doubting that the way Seth 
Russell pointed out was the way the Father 
smiled upon, Thaddeus went to sleep with a 
deep-drawn sigh of relief. 


XXVI. 


VIEWS AND INTERVIEWS. 

RE those blank pledges ready ?” Miss Josie 



asked a few days later as she swept into 
the Banner office. 

“ Excuse me,” Thaddeus said, hastily arising 
and going toward the table where the pledges 
lay, wrapped and ready for delivery. “ You need 
not have called, I intended to send them up to 
you.” 

“Needn’t I?” she asked in a low voice, with 
a half-sad face, and then added: “But I wanted to 
come ” — and after just the slightest pause, that 
was very effective in its work on the heart of the 
young editor, she said, half apologetically — “for 
the cards.” 

Quickly, and with a show of asperity, Thad- 
deus said impulsively, a frown darkening his 
brow, “You need not have said that, for I knew 
as much.” 

“ But you do not know #//, Thad. If you did, I 
know you would not judge me harshly. It was 
not my fault that Mr. Morrison was there first the 
other night. Will you come again — just once?” 

This was said so earnestly and so pleadingly, 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


2 So 

that his resentment vanished like a cloud of mist, 
and he replied, with a sigh of relief, a smile chas- 
ing the frown from his face : 

“If it will please you.” 

“ It will. Do come ! To-night?” 

“Yes — as far as I now know.” 

“Do!” 

With that, and a backward glance and a smile, 
she hurried out the door, and was on the street 
before Thaddeus realized that he had violated a 
solemn pledge made to himself, — that he would 
not for any consideration call at Judge Tracy’s 
again. 

“Fool that I am!” he said, in smothered 
tones, as he resumed his seat at the desk. 
“Why did n’t I say no, and be done with it?” 

“Too late for this week’s paper?” Wendell 
inquired as he walked in, holding up to view a 
communication. 

“I guess not, if not too long; though we 
must go to press in an hour or two.” 

“It is not long. Since you were not at the 
meeting, I have given you a little account of my 
speech at the rally the other day. Great crowd, 
and a fine time! I talked for an hour and a 
quarter, and made the fur fly, I tell you ! Say, 
Thad, you must be with us next time.” 

“ I have been planning to go,” Thaddeus an- 
swered; quietly, but feeling very wretched at 


VIEWS AND INTERVIEWS. 


281 


the thought of the misery of the hour when he 
should see Wendell and Miss Josie the leading 
spirits where he had so long been in chief com- 
mand, and she his willing assistant! 

“ That ’s right. I want you to be there ; for 
I know you can report my speech so much bet- 
ter than I can. Say!” and Morrison grew very 
confidential, lowering his voice to a whisper, 
and drawing a chair close up to the editor’s 
desk. “Make the Banner speak in its well- 
known convincing and entertaining style of my 
candidacy for Congress, and you will lose noth- 
ing by it when I get there ! Say, Throckmorton, 
you deserve something nice for your faithful 
services the past six or eight years. How 
would you like to be consul at Callao, or some 
such place? I will get that for you, if I am 
elected. Shall I ?” 

“ But if not elected, then what am I to get 
for the Banner's service?” he asked, with a 
forced smile, half jokingly and half in earnest. 

“By Jupiter!” Morrison exclaimed, rising 
hastily, “get what the rest of us get — a chance 
to pocket defeat, and try again!” 

Thaddeus saw that Morrison was offended at 
his question, and so said in a conciliatory 
manner. 

“But we will not anticipate any such trouble. 
You will be elected, of course, if nominated; and 


282 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


nominated surely, if everybody proves true to 
you. The Banner never deserts the party.” 

“That is so, Throcky. The Banner has 
never deserted its principles,” Morrison an- 
swered, in a kinder tone, and then said, refer- 
ring to the communication he had brought in : 
“You may think it a trifle strong, the way I 
speak there of my speech, but it was remarked 
on all sides that the like had never been heard 
in this county before. One thing pleased the 
boys, and that was when I excoriated the 
Church. Put it in just as I have written it, and 
be sure to be at our next one yourself. I ’ll not 
forget you when I go to Washington. Father 
and the President were old army chums, and 
that will help. Father was on his staff at the 
close of the war.” 

“The knave!” Thaddeus said, with a stamp 
of his foot, though the word was muttered 
under his breath, as he glared after Wendell 
when he had gone. “ Yes, I will put it in just 
as it is written, and i will be at the next meet- 
ing ; and I will make the Banner bright with 
puffs for his congressional aspirations ; r and I 
will retire from Judge Tracy’s, and will do 
many other servile things, all for the chance of 
political preferment for myself! He shall not 
know that I have the secret of his scheming!” 

The more Thaddeus meditated upon the sit- 


VIEWS AND INTERVIEWS. 


283 


uation, the firmer became his determination to 
cast sentiment and devotion to the winds until 
after the election, and to be a cold, calculating, 
astute politician. “ In that form I will go and 
call on Miss Tracy to-night,” he said, pushing 
his chair aside, and hurrying to the case to “set 
up” Wendell’s eulogy of his own speech; for 
the printers were behind, and the Banner must 
come out on time! By an heroic struggle 
through the rest of the day, Thaddeus kept his 
heart in the prison-house of his political aspira- 
tions, and shut love up in the dark dungeon of his 
self-control! With such prisoners in his breast 
he called at Judge Tracy’s, and was received 
smilingly by Miss Josie. He was not himself 
at all. He was certainly another person. He 
dared not glance in the mirror as he stood be- 
fore the hall-tree a moment betore entering the 
parlor, whither Miss Tracy led the way, for fear 
he would be alarmed by his changed counte- 
nance. He wondered if Miss Tracy did not no- 
tice the difference. Perhaps she did ; but if so, 
she made no sign of surprise. Of one thing he 
was certain : He was a heartless man ; for was 
not his heart in prison? He was sure it was; 
for he could feel its throbbings through the 
thin walls of its hastily-constructed ward ! He 
was a loveless man ; for his love was fast asleep 
in the dark dungeon ! Fast asleep ? There he 


284 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


was wrong ; for it was the cry of love he heard, 
faint indeed, but very distinct, as he watched 
the gleam of a ring which Miss »Josie turned 
round and round on her finger. She had on 
but one that night, though she usually wore 
several, and that one was his gift to her. It had 
never been returned, nor had he ever thought to 
ask for it, though it was the token of their 
plighted love ! Was she toying with it to re- 
mind him that she yet wore it — and wore it to 
the discarding of all others? Surely not for that 
purpose ; for her voice was gay and her eyes were 
bright — not a suspicion of regret in a single 
gleam that flashed upon him. 

What could Thaddeus do with heart and love 
both bound with chains that night ? Do ! He 
could play the politician, and plan for success. 
He could show Miss Tracy that he was a man 
now , and not the foolish youth who had lost his 
heart to her ! 

And that he did — and more ! What if Seth 
Russell had been hiding in the depths of the 
window! Would not his old heart beat wildly 
in admiration for the heroism of his friend’s son? 
But Seth was not hiding there. He was else- 
where, and on an errand of mercy. 

“Mr. Morrison tells me,” Miss Josie said, 
brightly, “that you have agreed to go to our 
next meeting.” 


VIEWS AND INTER VIE WS. 


285 


“Did Morrison tell you that? Well, it is 
true ; but I wish Mr. Outwright had told you, 
for I promised him to go before I saw Morrison ; 
and I would rather you would believe that I 
yielded to Mr. Outwright’s persuasion, and not 
to Morrison’s dictation.” 

“Why?” This was said with a deep ques- 
tioning from the eyes; but Thaddeus did not 
heed the silent inquiry, seeing that love was 
locked up, so he answered carelessly : 

“ For no reason, except that I believe in be- 
stowing honor where honor is due, if I may be 
so bold as to assume that any one is honored by 
having me yield to his influence.” 

“O!” she replied, with a little sigh, “I 
thought there might be some other reason. But 
what you say is quite natural and proper.” 

“Thank you ! I am in the race for the Sen- 
ate, and mean to win if hard work and serious 
planning can carry me through. From now on 
there is to be no play where I am. I know what 
I have to contend against, and mean to be a 
man!” 

Thaddeus was surprised at himself, and not 
a little ashamed. There he was before Miss 
Tracy, a non-voter, and a person without polit- 
ical influence, boasting of his manliness and of 
his courage. Why should he speak so loud, and 
with such a show of bravado? Why, indeed, 


286 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


except to drown the voices calling to him from 
their narrow and uncomfortable prison-cells? 

“What makes you speak so loud?” Miss 
Josie asked, quietly, smiling in genuine amuse- 
ment at his defiant air. “ Are you practicing 
for the campaign next month?” 

“ Beg pardon ! Does my voice sound loud 
to you ? It did to me ; but I thought it was 
due to this cold I have taken.” 

“ Perhaps it is. But say, Thad, papa says 
you have no opposition for the State Senate, 
since Mr. Morrison declines to run. It was so 
kind in him to withdraw in your favor.” 

“Certainly it was. Mr. Morrison is a very 
kind man. But of course you know, Miss Josie, 
that a man can not be a State senator and a 
congressman at one and the same time. I am 
willing to concede to Mr. Morrison all the praise 
he deserves for withdrawing from the race 
against me ; but the larger prize he seeks 
must be awarded some influence in his action.” 

“ Perhaps your friends have induced him to 
seek the other prize, and to leave this to you ?” 

“ Not at all impossible, but very improbable !” 

“I hope you count me your friend ?” 

“It is an honor and a pleasure that I am 
proud to acknowledge.” 

“ I hope you will believe that I have some 
influence with Mr. Morrison.” 


VIEWS AND INTER VIE WS. 


287 


“ Too much, by far !” Thaddeus said, hastily, 
and with such a manner of expression that he 
quite lost self-control, and his heart was in his 
throat in a second. 

“ Do not say that — especially when my in- 
fluence has been used for your benefit.” 

“ Political, you mean, of course, Miss Tracy,” 
Thaddeus said, recovering self-control quickly. 

“ That, at least.” 

Then they talked briskly and cheerfully of 
temperance, of charitable work, of social events, 
and finally came back to politics, Thaddeus all 
the while acting the * part he had assumed, and 
keeping all thought of the relations between 
them in the background. Not until he arose to 
go, and when she offered him her hand in say- 
ing good-night, did he permit himself to allude 
to their engagement even most remotely. Then, 
as if to test her, to sound the depths of her 
heart, to discover her real desire, he said, with 
what carelessness he could summon, assuming a 
matter-of-fact air: “Miss Josie, would you let 
me take that ring you have on?” 

“ Certainly, if yon wish it ;” and before he 
could add a word or explain his intention, the 
ring was in his hand, while his friend smiled 
upon him brightly, though he thought he de- 
tected a quiver of the lip, but was not sure. 

Awkwardly, holding the ring still in his ex- 


288 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


tended and open hand, he stepped back, bowed 
himself out, and heard the door close softly be- 
hind him, as if reluctantly shutting him away 
from that parlor and that heart. 

u I hope I will not meet Seth to-night,” he 
said to himself. “ I feel like a traitor ! Whom 
have I betrayed? Myself or Seth? Am I right, 
or am I wrong? Does pride, or does passion 
control me ? Be brave, good heart ! I have won 
the battle to-night ! And yet another such vic- 
tory would ruin me. I have lost more than I 
have gained. I went there clear-headed, fully 
persuaded as to myself! I am going away con- 
fused, and undecided whether my fortune is in 
her keeping or in the hands of — Seth Russell !” 

“Who calls me?” 

With a start of surprise, Thaddeus turned 
about to see his friend at his heels. 

“Did some one call yon?” Thaddeus asked, 
as they moved on together. 

“ Perhaps not ; but I felt called to come out 
and meet you to-night — you or some other dis- 
tressed soul. It must be you, seeing you are the 
first I have met. And does your heart bear up, 
son of my beloved?” 

“Not as I wish; not as I wish!” 

“A divided house can not stand, nor a divided 
heart. First of all, settle the heart. Success 
can come only to a true heart. A true heart is 


VIE IVS AND INTER VIE WS. 


289 


a whole heart. Have only one door to the heart, 
and only one chamber ! Who enters must be 
sure that no other hides in some unknown 
recess.’’ 

“But, Seth,” Thaddeus said, musingly, “ sup- 
pose the head and the heart do not agree, 
what — ” 

“Follow your heart. Out of the heart are 
the issues of life. The head is only the private 
secretary. A secretary may make a mistake. 
If so, the heart can correct it on sight.” 


XXYII. 


A PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE. 

HE next meeting in the temperance move- 



ment was a more decided success in point 


of attendance, in enthusiasm, and in excellence 
of program than the preceding one. For some 
reason every class of people was interested. 
Ministers of various Churches, lawyers of noto- 
riety, physicians and merchants, farmers and 
town-people, young and old, crowded to the 
township meetings with such unanimity as to 
make one believe that drunkenness, and espe- 
cially the open traffic in intoxicants, could not 
continue one week in that county. Such un- 
precedented enthusiasm did not fail visibly to 
affect the bearing of the new factor in the move- 
ment, who, because he was a new factor, took to 
himself all the credit for the attendance and the 
apparent interest of the masses. From being a 
rather reluctant participant and a questioning 
follower, he suddenly emerged into the leader, 
not to say dictator, of the movement, taking the 
management out of Miss Josie’s hands, making 
changes in the program, and in other ways as- 
serting his personality until all spoke of the 


A PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE. 


291 


gatherings as “ Morrison’s meetings.” And so 
in fact they were. They were Morrison’s be- 
cause he controlled them, and they were Morri- 
son’s because he used them to further his own 
ends. Nevertheless all that did not affect the 
attendance, nor diminish the interest. It was 
quite the thing, all that summer, for the people 
to put up dinner in baskets, and spend one day, 
every two weeks, in the woods, giving heed 
to Morrison’s eloquence and Trockmorton’s 
singing. 

When Morrison spoke, the people applauded, 
and cheered lustily when he had finished, and 
there the matter ended. When Throckmorton 
sang, the people were silent as the grave ; but 
when he had finished, they cheered and cheered, 
again and again, and would not be content until 
he had sung another and another song; and 
there the matter begun, instead of ending, as in 
Morrison’s case. Mothers and fathers went 
home, thanking God for such an example for 
their sons, and praying a blessing upon the 
head of one who preached and practiced a cor- 
rect life.. Young men went home, secretly to 
model their habits after Throckmorton, and to 
sing as best they could, at smaller gatherings, 
the songs he made popular at the Morrison 
meetings ; while young ladies left the rallies 
determined to urge, by many a hint and open 


292 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


declaration, their brothers and friends to be- 
come Throckmortons in life. 

And yet, in all he did, Thaddeus did not seek 
his own. His attendance upon the meetings 
was a personal sacrifice all around. It took 
him from his business ; it threw him into un- 
pleasant contact with Morrison, whose sincerity 
he had great reason to doubt ; it opened afresh 
the slowly-healing wound that Miss Josie’s con- 
duct had caused ; it put him in association with 
Miss Jessup so constantly and so publicly that 
he was annoyed by frequent jocular references 
to it by inconsiderate youth and unkind adults. 
It was only because he had promised Mr. Out- 
wright, and had listened to the entreaty of Seth 
Russell, that he started into the work. It was 
because a great desire seized upon him, alter 
the first meeting, to put some soul into a move- 
ment which threatened to go to seed prema- 
turely, and really to uplift the community, that 
he persisted in the campaign, submitting grace- 
fully and patiently to the almost insufferable 
dictatorialness of Morrison. That he was an 
attraction never entered his mind. That he 
would gain votes in the Convention, did not 
form any portion of his calculations. An ardent 
advocate of temperance from principle, he 
rushed into this field with self-sacrificing ardor, 
because it was an opening he had long coveted. 


A PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE. 


293 


That his singingwas effective, he did not doubt; 
but with strange blindness he did not see from 
what earthly source came his strength ; nor did 
he recall how perfectly his voice and Jennie 
Jessup’s blended as she sang with him in duets; 
nor did he count the delicacy of conception nor 
the perfectness of touch with which she accom- 
panied his solo singing with the organ, giving 
a clear field when he was strong, and supporting 
with full organ his weak places. He remem- 
bered, but did not sufficiently value, her labor 
in going through a mass of vocal selections 
every day to find something new and striking 
that just suited his voice. He knew that she 
had something ready at every rehearsal, and 
that she never failed to select just the thing; 
but he did not stop to consider what labor had 
been gone through with to secure it. He did 
not know — for he could not see, and no one took 
pains to tell him — how her mood changed with 
his in his singing, and how her eyes, her mouth, 
her whole countenance, indexed, unmistakably, 
the pathos, the power, the sadness, or the sweet- 
ness, of the song he sung. He did not know 
how there was no other person for her in all 
that great mass of people, while he was before 
them singing. He did not know how, nightly, 
she pleaded passionately at the Throne for his 
success, though she believed all the time that 
20 


294 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


his heart was pledged to another. She did not, 
aiter the first rehearsal, allow herself to give the 
slightest significance to his considerate atten- 
tions and little kindnesses, knowing he was, in 
the nobility of his soul, devoting himself to the 
work in hand for his love of it, staying away 
from Miss Tracy only that her cousin Wendell 
might be won to a life of sobriety and usefulness. 

The final meeting of the series was to be at 
home, in the Brambleville music-hall, and a 
crush of people was expected. 

It was within one day of that meeting, and 
Wendell was at Judge Tracy’s home, in consulta- 
tion with Miss Josie about some details of the 
gathering — or rather, was there to give his orders 
concerning the details, quite satisfied to leave the 
execution of his plans to her. 

“Miss Josie,” he said, with a seriousness 
and a depth of feeling which he could simulate 
to perfection on demand, “ with sincere regret I 
reach the end of this campaign. I will not 
longer disguise from you the pleasure I have had 
in this work because it is yours. It has been a 
delight to do your bidding. I will not withhold 
longer a confession I have longed to make, but 
dared not until now. I have kept the pledge. I 
have not touched a drop of intoxicants since we 
exchanged pledges that night. You have been 
my strength and my stay. But after to-morrow 


A PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE. 


295 


night this delightful and helpful association will 
cease — I fear. I tremble for myself, unaided by 
you. How like a tower of strength you have 
been to me, let my successful, my first success- 
ful, keeping of the pledge answer ! Miss Josie, 
dare I hope you will not cast me off to go to the 
bad ? By the memory of these weeks of victory 
together, I beg you to let me be your servant 
longer — even for life !” 

He took her hand in his. She made a slight 
movement to withdraw it; but, his clasp tighten- 
ing, she permitted him to retain it for a moment, 
saying, with genuine embarrassment and confu- 
sion, for his declaration was wholly unexpected 
at that time : 

“I do not quite understand you, I fear, Mr. 
Morrison.” 

“Let me be candid, then, and let me be clear. 
Miss Josie, will you be my wife?” 

Withdrawing her hand from his, she sat a mo- 
ment silent, and then said, very slowly, and with- 
out any sign of emotion : 

“I understand you now. You honor me, I 
am sure. You would not want me to answer you 
hastily. It is a very sacred relation — that of 
wife — Mr. Morrison. I could never marry where 
I do not love devotedly*. It is sweet to me to 
hear you say I have helped you keep the pledge. 
It is very flattering to me to have you say your 


296 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


hope of future success is in my acceptance of 
your offer. But would marriage without the 
heart be marriage at all?” 

“Certainly, certainly, Miss Tracy. The courts 
* nowhere inquire into the question of sentimental 
attachment. The only point to be decided is, 
whether the marriage contract has been legally 
celebrated and recorded. But in this case, Miss 
Josie, I have been led to believe the heart was 
not untouched.” 

“I am sure, Mr. Morrison, that no one could 
be thrown into your company, as I have been 
during the past few weeks, wdthout being com- 
pelled to admire your brilliant talents as an or- 
ganizer and as an orator, and to concede your 
perfect observance of all requirements of polite 
society. But I am not ready to-night to — to — 
say more.” 

“You do not reject me?” 

“I do not, Mr. Morrison. My heart will not 
let me do that.” 

“Pardon me, Miss Tracy! Under the cir- 
cumstances, may I not presume to ask you, is 
your heart free ?” 

“If I should say it w, you would take that as 
notice that you have your suit to win. If I 
should say it is not , you would believe your case 
won, and only the decision held in reserve,” she 
answered, evasively. 


A PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE. 


297 


“Ah, I see!” Morrison replied, with well- 
assumed grace, though he was impatient at this 
dallying, “ you are a worthy daughter of a worthy 
sire. The judge himself could not be more poli- 
tic. But I shall consider my case as under ad- 
visement. I beg you to remember what death- 
less results await your decision!” 

That was a restless night for Miss Josie. She 
had in her hands the soul of an immortal being. 
So she thought. He had fame, brilliant talents, 
and wealth. His family were of highest respect- 
ability. When daylight came, she was sleeping 
from sheer exhaustion and restless tossing. She 
was sleeping because she had decided to accept 
his offer. She would become Mrs. Wendell Mor- 
rison. A note, dispatched to him by her father 
as he went to the office, told him of his accept- 
ance by her. 

As for Morrison, that night, he was as happy 
as a man like he was could be. He was as happy 
as he had been often before, when a packed jury 
had speedily reached a verdict in favor of his 
client — just that happy, but no happier. 

The next night there was the crush expected 
at the music-hall. Every seat was taken, and 
every available space occupied. The hour for 
opening came. Mr. Outwright, who was to offer 
prayer, was there ; the mayor of Brambleville, 
who was to preside, was on the platform ; the 


298 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


chorus of singers, Thaddeus, and Miss Jessup, 
were in their places ; and only Miss Josie and 
Wendell needed to come to make the company 
complete. Miss Josie was waiting for her escort, 
wondering just how it would seem to go with 
him, now that he was her accepted lover. 

“It is his way,” Thaddeus whispered, to Mr. 
Outwright. “ He will come in late to attract 
more attention. Suggest to the chairman that 
we have the opening numbers — the chorus, the 
prayer, and the next song. By that time he will 
be here — if he is coming.” 

“You do not think he would fail to come to 
this magnificent audience, do you?” Mr. Out- 
wright asked, incredulously. 

“I do not know. I am afraid he would if he 
wanted to.” 

The chairman did as suggested, and yet it fell 
to Mr. Outwright to bridge, with a few impromptu 
remarks, the gap left by Wendell’s non-appear- 
ance between the song and his speech. 

A half-hour slipped by, and Mr. Outwright 
was still talking, to the great delight of the audi- 
ence ; but Wendell was not there, nor would he 
be that night. He was at home — drunk ! 

Judge Tracy and wife were in the hall, having 
left Miss Josie to come with Wendell. When 
they learned of the cause of the failure of Mor- 
rison to appear, they quietly withdrew, and hast- 


A PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE. 


299 


ened home to condole with their daughter over 
the failure of Morrison’s appearance at the hall. 
But she needed more comfort than even their 
loving words could impart. The wound was 
deeper than they surmised, and was of a differ- 
ent character. 

And yet she bore it bravely. She did not 
weep, nor moan, nor charge any one rashly. She 
was silent — so silent and uncommunicative that 
Mrs. Tracy was greatly alarmed. 

“Do not worry, mamma dear. I will be my- 
self by and by,” she said, quietly, with pallid 
lips and trembling voice. Then she asked: “Was 
Thad there?” 

“Yes, of course, dear; but for him I fear the 
meeting would have been a failure certainly. 
But it was not. It was a great success. He does 
sing so magnificently!” 

“Jennie was there?” she asked again. 

“Yes; but seemed very sad. I wonder if 
she knew of Wendell’s fall before she came ! 
Poor girl, she is so wrapped up in him !” 

“Papa,” Josie said, turning to him a sad face, 
and speaking in a voice that betokened an in- 
ward struggle to be calm, “ did you deliver my 
message to Mr. Morrison this morning?” 

“I did not, daughter. He has not been in 
the office to-day, nor did I see him. It is in 
my desk.” 


300 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“Then, papa, bring it home to me to-morrow. 
I would rather he would not have it just yet.” 

“My dear, do not be so sorrowful. Such dis- 
appointments come to every life. Even our 
Master did not escape them. Everybody knows 
it was not your fault that he was not there, nor 
that he has fallen again.” 

“ Mamma, may I go to my room now — and 
be alone awhile? Do not worry about me. I 
will call you if I need you. I must think this 
all out. I do not see.” 

“ Be considerate, dear. Do not blame your- 
self,” Mrs. Tracy added, putting her arm around 
her daughter, and walking with her to the foot 
of the stairs. 

“Good-night, mamma!” 

Wearily — O so wearily! — Josie climbed the 
stairs, grasping the balustrade as she went up, 
and when alone in her own room sank into a 
rocker, and pondered upon the folly of that 
night, and perhaps of the whole campaign, 
thankful in her secret heart that the note was 
undelivered. 


XXVIII. 


AN UNMATED PAIR. 



ET no one suppose that Morrison’s return 


^ to his habit of drinking intoxicants, or his 
failure to keep his engagement with the people 
at the last rally of the temperance campaign, 
militated against his political prospects. 

Quite the contrary ; they were improved 
thereby, and no one knew this so well as Mor- 
rison ! Indeed, but for his drunken spree just at 
that time, and but lor his failure on that night, 
his most sanguine political friend would have 
predicted utter defeat through the opposition of 
the liquor-dealers. His spree revived in them 
their fast-fading hope that Morrison was playing 
a game with the temperance people, and was in 
reality the friend of the liquor-seller as before. 
Even the temperance element, kind, patient, 
and confiding people that they are, did not cast 
Morrison overboard, but said they would forgive 
that one failure; and to encourage him, and help 
him back into their ranks, they would vote for 
him just as they had intended to do before -his 
fall. So if Morrison should not be given what- 
ever political office he asked for, it would not be 


302 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


because the liquor-dealers and the temperance 
people were divided on him ; for they were not ; 
but were most solidly united. 

No wonder Billy Barnwell, the chief of police, 
slapped Sam Slimkins on the back, and ex- 
claimed : 

“Great Caesar, Sam! Morrison is the greatest 
schemer on earth ! And he ’s got the grit of 
forty-’leven men ! By Jupiter ! No other man 
would have dared go into that temperance craze 
and hope to get the saloon vote ; and no other 
man but Morrison would ’a’ gone on a spree at 
the very last meeting ! But Morrison is Mor- 
rison, and there ’s none like him ! He ’s got both 
the liquor-dealers and the temperance cranks in 
his pocket !” 

“He’s slick,” Sam said, meditatively. “He 
told me all about it when he went in, so I ain’t 
surprised.” 

Of course, Morrison gave himself to business 
with such untiring devotion that even Judge 
Tracy relented, and repented of his promise to 
his wife to dissolve partnership with Morrison 
as soon as possible. And the young lawyer ap- 
peared to be so sincerely sorry, and so humble 
with it all — so willing to be flayed alive, as it 
were, by her hands — that Miss Josie looked with 
pitying eye upon his misfortune, and, after sev- 
eral days’ deliberation, gave to him herself the 


AN UN MATED PAIR . 


303 


note her father did not deliver that eventful 
morning; and he became, after all, the possessor 
of Miss Josie’s promise of marriage. Notwith- 
standing his privilege to call, now that he had 
her promise, and that in writing, he did not 
often go to Judge Tracy’s, but excused himself 
from time to time, when expected, by pleading 
business engagements. 

Very soon Miss Josie became filled with 
strange forebodings as to the strength of her in- 
fluence over Morrison. She very wisely asked 
herself what could she do with him after mar- 
riage, if now, in the warmth of courtship, he 
came so seldom, and so easily found excuses for 
not coming when expected ? But when he did 
come he was so entertaining, so considerate, so 
full of confession of past neglect, and so abun- 
dant in promises of future fidelity, that she could 
but admire him even as she pitied him. And 
yet things did not go smoothly ; or rather did 
not move joyously; for there were no quarrels 
between them. Wendell was too much of a 
diplomat to permit such a thing to occur, and 
Miss Josie was too refined in thought and man- 
ner to take part in any unseemly controversy. 
But there were many and many weary stretches 
of time when both were trying to their utmost 
to be agreeable, even attractive, and utterly 
failed. 


304 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“ I must be more lover-like, I suppose,” Wen- 
dell would say to himself sometimes. “ It is 
quite the proper thing, and no doubt she expects 
it. I must not disappoint her.” 

“ I must be more winsome, and must appear 
happier to be with him,” Josie would say to her- 
self. “ He seems so uninterested in my conver- 
sation. I suppose I should be more demonstra- 
tive, or something.” 

And so they planned what to say and what to 
do when they met, and, with it all, called them- 
selves lovers ! 

“ I am intending to leave on a business trip 
for a week or ten days,” Wendell said, one even- 
ing. “ I shall see many new and interesting 
places. Shall I write you descriptions of them ?” 

“ I will leave that entirely with yourself,” 
Miss Josie replied, quietly ; Wendell, the mean- 
while, wondering what she meant by that indif- 
ferent answer. He wished she had said, “ Please 
do?” or, “Please do not?” so he would have 
known her desire. She, on the other hand, was 
much annoyed, though she displayed no vexa- 
tion, that he should ask whether he should 
write. At any rate, she did not want him to 
write to please her only. 

“ I hope you will have a safe trip and a 
speedy return,” she added, after a few minutes’ 
silence. 


AN UNMATED PAIR. 


305 


“ Thank you. I wish it were so you could 
accompany me — that is, I wish this was to be 
our wedding tour,” he said, with more confusion 
than he was wont to show. 

“ Is that your idea of such a tour — business 
and pleasure combined? I always thought it 
should be wholly for pleasure,” she said, blush- 
ing; for it seemed to her that he made the tour a 
secondary matter, a pleasant accompaniment to 
a journey of necessity. 

“You quite misunderstand,” he said. “ I 
meant to suggest that my heart is impatient at 
delay. I was wishing for a near-by date, instead 
of the one so far away.” 

“ The one far away is the one you first men- 
tioned,” she said. “Would you change it?” 

“ That seems to be best yet; but still, do you 
not allow me the privilege of wishing for an 
earlier date?” 

“ I should be happy to know you are really 
impatient of delay. It is something to every 
heart to be longed for.” 

“ That is so,” he said, in a business-like way, 
and rather absent-mindedly ; for in truth he had 
not heard her last remark. And then there was 
silence. Presently he said: 

“What do you admire most in me, Missjosie?” 

“ I can not say, Mr. Morrison,” she replied, 
promptly. 


306 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“ Is there not one thing more than another 
which attracts you?” 

“ Not one thing,” she said slowly, and quickly 
added, so the remark would not wound, “ for 
there are so many to be named.” 

“ If ‘ so many,’ do me the kindness to name 
one — -just one /” 

“Please excuse me, Mr. Morrison; indeed, I 
can not make a selection. You would not like 
for me to insist on your telling me what one 
thing in me attracts you.” 

“ By Jove ! I could do it in a second,” said 
Wendell, springing to his feet, almost forgetting, 
in his excitement, where he was or in whose 
presence. “I beg pardon!” he said, resuming 
his seat. “ But for a truth, Miss Josie, I can 
name one, or a half-dozen traits of character that 
attract me. But it seems that not one reason 
can you give me for — for — I will not say loving 
me, but for accepting me.” 

“ Give me time to think, Mr. Morrison. Do 
not urge me now. I will tell you some time. 
Be patient with me.” 

“ I will not insist. When you have discovered 
it, let me know ; for it is refreshing to be com- 
plimented in earnest once in a while.” 

It was a positive relief when Judge Tracy 
came in and engaged in the conversation, drift- 
ing easily into politics and business. 


AN UN MATED PAIR. 


307 


“You have arranged to go next week to get 
those deeds signed, have yon not?” the judge 
asked. 

“Yes, Judge. I will start Monday. I am 
planning, however, to extend my trip to the sea- 
board, and will be gone ten days or more.” 

“ Very well ; but get the deeds signed by all 
the heirs first, and send them to me by express. 
I have an engagement with a party Friday to 
close the sale of that property, but I can not 
give a clear title without those signatures. After 
that, you can continue your journey.” 

“What deeds, papa?” Josie asked. 

“ Quit-claim deeds from heirs of my uncle’s 
estate. My father, you know, bought uncle’s in- 
terest ; but it was never properly conveyed, and 
now we must get the heirs to quit-claim.” 

“Are all the heirs at the same place?” Wen- 
dell asked. 

“Yes, all at Waterford ; all except one daugh- 
ter. She went West years ago, and is supposed 
to have died childless. But that is only con- 
jecture. At any rate she is not known to have 
left issue.” 

“ Papa, is that the same branch of the fam- 
ily that Tingleman’s wife claimed to belong to?” 

“Yes, the same; but she had not a scintilla 
of proof to sustain her claim. It was all asser- 
tion, and agreed in its details with the family 


308 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


history ; but that may have resulted from her 
familiarity with such details through some scrap 
of published personal reminiscences.” 

“ Speaking of titles reminds me,” said Wen- 
dell, u of a discovery I made the other day while 
searching the records for another purpose. I 
discovered that Aunt Jessup has never quit- 
claimed her interest in the estate my father 
bought of the heirs. I must call father’s atten- 
tion to it before Aunt Jessup drops off.” 

“Yes, it ought to be attended to at once. I 
am surprised to hear you say that ; for Major 
Morrison is one of the most particular persons 
on titles that I ever had dealings with.” 

“ Carelessness of some attorney, doubtless, 
before his son was old enough to look after his 
titles,” Wendell said, laughingly, knowing full 
well Judge Tracy had always been his father’s 
attorney. 

“ Perhaps,” the other replied, smiling. 

“O dear!” sighed Josie, “how glibly these 
men talk business, and how animated is Wen- 
dell’s manner now, compared with its dullness 
a few minutes ago. I do believe I am a burden, 
and he has taken me only to wound Thad !” 

Not to wound Thad ! Not that, though he 
would not have winced at that result. Not to 
wound any one, Miss Josie, but to advance his 
own schemes! It is not an affair of the heart 


AN UNMATED PAIR. 


309 


with him, Miss Josie, blit just a legitimate and 
possible way of becoming possessor of wealth he 
could not gain so quickly or so certainly any 
other way. 

And what did you accept him for, Miss Josie? 
Not for love ! No, for your heart could not de- 
ceive you in that. But for pity first, for fame 
next, and for punishment for your folly last! 

21 


XXIX. 


THE CONVENTION. 


OR several weeks Thaddeus and Wendell 



V gave themselves np to business, endeavor- 
ing to bring up work neglected on account of 
the long and exciting temperance campaign. 
Their friends were at the same time very busy 
in arranging for their nomination at the ap- 
proaching Convention. Wendell’s men had the 
advantage of long experience and unscrupulous 
methods ; but Thaddeus’s workers had the 
strength that comes from heart and mind united. 

When the day for the assembling of the Con- 
vention came, everybody was surprised at the 
multitude of voters who came to witness the pro- 
ceedings. Wendell’s friends were not only sur- 
prised, but alarmed. 

And well they might be! He had not usually 
triumphed through popular uprising, but had won 
his laurels by crafty scheming and unblushing 
bribery in the primaries and in the Conventions, 
knowing that the party would elect the nominee, 
whoever he should be. The throng of interested 
voters boded no good for Wendell in the Conven- 
tion, though only regularly chosen delegates might 


THE CONVENTION. 


3 ** 

vote. Wendell was too shrewd a politican not to 
discover the true situation early in the day, as the 
streets about the square in which stood the court- 
house began to fill up with men from the rurai 
districts. He called to Sam Slimkins from his 
office-window, as the latter stood below on the 
sidewalk in the midst of a group of laughing men. 
As Sam entered the office and closed the door 
behind him, Wendell, his eyes dark with anger 
and his face set in hard lines by his suppressed 
wrath, exclaimed, with indignation: 

“What is this I see? The streets are full of 
voters, and Throckmorton for the Senate is all I 
hear, go where I will ! Is it for this I have been 
cashing all your bills these three months?” 

“Keep your temper down,” Sam said, coolly, 
in expressive but inelegant language. “Don’t 
be a fool, and do n’t die until your time comes.” 

“But what does it mean? Have I been 
spending money like water to pack a Convention 
for Throckmorton ? What have you done ? Did 
you lie to me when you said you had a list of 
delegates, and that a majority were for me?” 

Wendell was cooler now, but his anger was 
none the less intense. It was only under better 
control. 

“ Idiot!” Sam said, sneeringly. “ This is not a 
mass convention. Let the crowd howl for Throck- 
morton. The delegates will do the voting, and 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


St* 

the delegates are ours, I tell you, and that by a 
safe majority.” 

“Safe majority!” exclaimed Wendell. “I am 
sick to death to hear you talk about safe majority ! 
The majority ought to be so great that no thought 
would be given the other fellow. It was for an 
overwhelming, a crushing defeat that I have 
been paying you money !” 

“Well, a defeat is a defeat. You must remem- 
ber that we have had no child’s play. Throck- 
morton is known in every nook and corner in the 
county, and you and your blasted temperance 
rallies have made him better known than he 
was. I tell you to thank your stars that your 
name is to be mentioned at all in the Conven- 
tion. Man is a queer animal in a Convention. 
If a stampede strikes him, he is worse than a 
Texas steer. He will tramp the life out of his 
grandfather to get along with the crowd. We ’ve 
got the delegates, but Throckmorton ’s got the 
crowd.” 

“ Fool !” Wendell said, white with rage. “ Fool ! 
Did I not tell you that, and you said this is not a 
mass convention — only delegates can vote; and 
now you say Throckmorton has the crowd.” 

“And he has ! That was your plan ! You said, 
‘Det the primaries instruct for him, and let the 
delegates be chosen for me, and I will do the rest.’ 
Now, do the rest! You will have your hands 


THE CONVENTION. 


313 


full ! Begin to slick up, and brighten your mind. 
We’ll call on you for a speech, and it’s for you to 
smash the instructions. Every precinct has in- 
structed for Throckmorton, but we ’ve got the 
delegates — or the most of them. They are your 
friends. Now go in and bust their instructions, 
and you are all right. I have done my part, now 
you do your '11!” 

“ Your part! Your part seems to be to spend 
all the money you get!” 

“ Here ’s the delegates. Look over the list. 
Count your friends, and see if they are not in the 
majority.” 

Wendell took the list and read over the names 
of delegates, and, as he did so, his manner soft- 
ened; for he saw that a very large majority were 
his personal friends, just such as he would have 
chosen. Indeed, the list was almost exactly the 
one he had made out, and asked to have sent up 
as delegates. 

“ Bully boy, Sam!” he said, cheerfully. “That’s 
all right ! I ’ll take my chances with those fel- 
lows every time ! Say, have them understand 
that I ’ll settle all bills for liquor to-day. Hold 
the Convention off until two or three o’clock. 
Throckmorton’s friends will get tired, and will 
begin to go home early. They are not the kind 
to hang on.” 

“All right. I ’ll see the Central Committee, 


3H 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


and get them to wait until about three o’clock to 
call the Convention to order. We have from one 
to five, according to the call. I do n’t care if I do,” 
and Sam took the offered cigar, and sauntered 
out, leaving Wendell to his reflections. Though 
they had scowled and howled at each other for 
ten minutes, they parted as fast friends as ever; 
Sam to go out to smoke and drink with the 
delegates; Wendell to sit in his office and ar- 
range the speech he was to make, when called 
out in the Convention, stopping occasionally to 
laugh over the sight of Thaddeus, when he should 
steal the nomination from him in a Convention 
that was instructed to a man for the young editor. 

The meanwhile, in the private office of the Ban- 
ner a group of men were assembled as if by chance, 
but they were there by agreement. They were 
not astute politicians, but they were terribly in 
earnest, and counted no amount of labor too great 
to insure success, though unalterably opposed to 
bribery. Only one in the group was a stranger 
to politics, and that one was Mr. Outwright, 
Thaddeus’s pastor. 

“ This is new work for me,” he laughingly said, 
when he came in; “but I will try to hold the 
hare while you men skin him.” 

In the group were Judge Tracy, Charles Chris- 
tie, Simon Hunter, Captain Thompson, and Major 
Morrison. The last-named suspected the treach- 


THE CONVENTION. 


315 


ery of his son in the matter, and was not surprised 
when it was broadly hinted by others present. 
Judge Tracy was not ignorant of Wendell’s plan 
to abandon his Congressional aspirations at the 
last moment, and to seek the nomination to the 
State Senate; but as such an intention had not 
been made public, nor had come to him authori- 
tatively, he felt justified in working with 
Thaddeus’s friends, and hence was present at 
this last conference before the Convention as- 
sembled. 

“What have we before us?” he asked, when 
all were assembled. 

“ Mr. Outwright will speak first, I believe,” 
Thaddeus said. 

“ I am reliably informed, gentlemen,” Mr. 
Outwright said, “ that a scheme is on foot to steal 
the Convention from Thaddeus to-day, and to 
give the nomination to Mr. Morrison.” 

He paused, and a death-like silence reigned 
in the room for a minute or more. Then Major 
Morrison spoke : 

“Gentlemen, this comes home to me quite 
naturally. If I were a delegate I should vote for 
Thaddeus, even as against my own son, for I be- 
lieve in fair play ; and up to this time there has 
been but one candidate in the field for nomi- 
nation, and he should have the fruit of his labor. 
However, I believe it is only proper for me to 


3 j 6 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


withdraw from this conference, that your plans 
may be unhindered by my presence.” 

And he withdrew in silence. 

“I have suspected as much,” Judge Tracy 
said, “ but did not know for a certainty that it 
was so. On account of my business relations 
with Wendell, I feel that I must withdraw from 
this conference, though I am sincere in wishing 
abundant success to Thaddeus in this aspiration. 
He is competent and worthy. I will retire.” 

And he did, without protest. 

“ A very proper thing — ha! ha! — a very proper 
thing — ah! — for the major, and the judge, too, 
for that matter. Ha! ha! Fine gentleman — 
ha! ha! — both of them, with — ah! — a very deli- 
cate sense — ha! ha! — of fitness of things. By the 
way — ha! ha! — seeing that some one must take 
the lead — ha! ha! — Mr. Outwright, what would 
you — ah! — suggest for us — ah! — to do?” Mr. 
Christie said, smiling cheerfully upon the men 
who were yet in conference. 

“I am not here, gentlemen, to suggest meth- 
ods. I am here to work. If you have anything 
I can do, command me.” 

“By the way — ah! — Thaddeus, do you know 
who — ah! — that is to say, have you a list of the 
delegates ? But, of course, you have — ah ! — being 
an editor. Ha! ha! Ah, thanks! By the way, gen- 
tlemen — ha! ha! — let me read you the names — 


THE CONVENTION. 


317 


ah! — of the delegates as chosen — ah! — by the 
primaries,” Mr. Christie said, taking the list 
Thaddeus handed him. “Ah ! Mr. Russell,” he 
continued, looking up as the door opened, and 
Seth slipped in, and took a seat. “ I suppose — 
ah ! — gentlemen, Mr. Russell is — ah ! — not in- 
truding. Ha! ha!” 

Seth said not a word, nor did any one object 
to his presence, so the reading commenced : 

“ S. L. King, Thomas Jackson, Robert Mor- 
ton — ” 

“Gone to Chicago,” broke in Seth, referring 
to the last-named. 

“Good!” said Captain Thompson. “He is 
worth ten men, do n’t you know ? Morrison will 
miss him more than ten men. That whole dele- 
gation, do n’t you know, can be held to Thad, if 
Bob Morton ain’t in it, do n’t you know? Count 
the rest of that township for Thad.” 

“But — ah! ha! ha! — what made Morton leave 
just now?” 

Then Seth stood up and said: “Read on! 
Kvery now and anon you will strike the name of 
a delegate that has business somewhere else. The 
eyes of the Lord are upon the righteous. His 
ears are open to the cry of the needy !” 

And the reading went on. From every town- 
ship names were greeted by Seth with the re- 
mark, “Gone to Chicago!” 


318 


A N ODD FELLOW. 


At the close of the reading, Captain Thomp- 
son said : 

“It seems to me, don’t you know, that about 
all of Morrison’s best workers have gone to Chi- 
cago, don’t you know? I don’t understand it.” 

“And you do not have to understand it, Cap- 
tain,” Seth said. “ The ways of the Lord are past 
finding out.” 

“ Nonsense ! The Lord has nothing to do 
with Bramble County politics, do n’t you know? 
Now, if you had said, ‘The devil was to pay,’ 
do n’t you know, I ’d have agreed with you.” 

“Der Sheegawga eggsbusition ees a midedy 
beeg ding to der fellers whad neffer bean dar,” 
Simon Hunter said, gesticulating impressively 
with both arms. “ Ond dare be gustomers ob 
mind dat I wands der see it already, right avay 
off soon ; ond Morrison he ’s mind freund, obv 
course, ond so I sends hees freunds, ond mind 
gustomers, too, to see der eggsbusition a week 
or tend days, already righd avay, once. Ond 
dat’s der vay the devil’s ter bay, Cabtin!” 

“You do n’t mean to say,” said Mr. Outwright, 
in surprise, “ that you have hired Morrison men 
to go to Chicago, and miss this Convention?” 

“Naw! I shust remarght dat I send ad me 
own eggsbense sume gustomers ob mind ter de 
Sheegawgo eggsbusition ! I fine out mit mine 
freund, Sed Russell, day ’s Morrison’s freunds, 


THE CONVENTION. 


319 


doo ! Ond I not wand der spoil dare drip, so I 
shusht say dat magdt no diffrunce to me !” 

“ Well, well !” said Mr. Outwright, sighing 
heavily. 

But the rest of the company laughed heartily, 
except Thaddeus and Seth. They were too busy 
just then in a whispered conversation to notice 
the general hilarity, or to remark the very satis- 
fied air Simon Hunter wore, as he stalked about 
the room, and examined the portraits of politi- 
cians that hung against the walls. 

“ But what is to be done now ?” Mr. Outwright 
asked, anxiously. 

“Nothing. Ha! ha! I suppose — ah! — only 
to go to the Convention — ha ! ha ! — and see Thad 
nominated !” Mr. Christie said. “All the rest of 
the names are solid for Thad. Ha ! ha ! It would 
take — ah ! — a cyclone — ha ! ha ! — to move the 
most of them — ha! ha! — from their ground.” 

“So our scare was for nothing.” 

“ Not exactly, Mr. Outwright,” Thaddeus said, 
the meanwhile holding Simon Hunter’s hand in 
his own tight clasp. “ But my friend, Mr. Hun- 
ter, had not told us of his interest in the Chicago 
Exposition, or we would have been less alarmed.” 

“ But does n’t Wendell know of the absence of 
his trusted followers,” the pastor persisted. 

“ Perhaps ; but if he does, he can do nothing 
now. His plan is to stampede the Convention 


320 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


by a brilliant speech, to be followed by a rush for 
his nomination by acclamation. Mort Humphrey 
has kept me posted. It can not be done !” 

“I hope not; but keep your powder dry, my 
friend, and do n’t forget to pray,” Mr. Outwright 
said, leaving Thaddeus and his friends to complete 
the details of their maneuvers in the Convention. 

“This beats my day !” said a delegate, looking 
back over the immense throng that filled the 
court-room when the Convention was called to 
order. “ Such a crowd to see one man nomi- 
nated without opposition !” 

“What man?” asked a fellow-delegate at his 
side. 

“ Throckmorton, of course. There is no other 
man mentioned, and all the townships have in- 
structed for him.” 

“ Instructed nothing ! I was chosen delegate 
before any instructions were given. I shall vote 
my individual sentiments. I do n’t want any 
psalm-singing saint to represent me in the State 
Senate !” 

“ I should say not ! An imp from the re- 
gions below would do it better !” exclaimed Seth 
Russell, who had crowded his way through the 
press and stood just in front of the speaker, as 
they waited for the gavel to fall for silence. 

“ Only your age saves you from punishment,” 
said the rebuked man, hotly. 


THE CONVENTION. 


^21 

“ Let not that hinder you ! But say, was it 
five or only two dollars that Sam Slimkins gave 
you out in the lobby ?” 

“ He gave me — nothing,” the delegate said, 
quickly catching himself. 

And so it was in every delegation. There 
was one or more who objected to being bound 
by instructions. They were noisy delegates, too. 
They had no fear of being heard. When Morri- 
son appeared on the platform, cheers and stamp- 
ing of feet greeted him from every part of the 
room. He bowed his acknowledgments, and sat 
down with a bearing born of a sense of his power 
to control his fellows. 

After the Convention had been organized, the 
chairman — a mild and timid man, with a soft and 
low voice — called for nominations. There was 
silence for two seconds, then there arose a cry 
from every part of the room : 

“ Morrison ! Morrison ! Morrison !” 

Thus appealed to, he arose, and, declaring his 
purpose to say but a few words, he launched out 
into a speech that was marvelous for its cogent 
reasoning, its brilliant rhetoric, its flashes of wit, 
and its sweeping torrent of argument. There 
was no mistaking the outcome of such an effort. 
Its conclusion was greeted with round after round 
of applause. The cheering ceased only to break 
out afresh. The chairman was helpless. His 


322 AN ODD FELLOW. 

voice could not be heard in the roar of stamping 
feet, clapping hands, and pounding of canes. 

“Morrison! Morrison! Morrison!” was 
the cry. 

He arose, again bowed his acknowledgment, 
and sat down, during which time there was si- 
lence, followed immediately by a wild uproar, in 
which the chairman’s gavel, pounding the table, 
was taken as a part of the applause, and not a 
call to order. It was a wild scene. Amid it all, 
Thaddeus sat near Morrison, silent, and as pale 
as death. A fearful struggle was going on within. 
It required all the will-power he possessed to 
keep him from fleeing from the scene of his de- 
feat and humiliation. Morrison was beaming 
with smiles, and gave no heed to the silent rival 
at his side. 

“Speak, man! speak!” said a whispered voice 
in his ear. It was Seth’s. “Stand up, and break 
the spell ! In the name of all I have done for 
you, speak !” 

Instantly, Thaddeus was on his feet. The 
storm subsided for a second, and burst forth 
anew ; but with less force. 

“ Mr. Chairman !” 

His voice rang out, with startling clearness, 
above the din. He hardly thought he could 
make himself heard, and was surprised to hear 
his own voice in that roar. 


THE CONVENTION. 


323 


There was a hush. 

“Mr. Chairman!” he commenced again, and 
for one brief space of time faltered, and then 
said, with steady tone and a voice free from emo- 
tion : “ I move you, sir, that Wendell Morrison 
be declared the choice of this Convention for 
State Senator, and that the vote be by acclama- 
tion.” 

This time it was Thaddeus’s friends who 
sprang into the breach. 

“No! no! no! Vote! Ballot! ballot!” came 
from all parts of the room. 

The spell was broken. Morrison’s men were 
without a leader. Sam Slimkins was there ; but 
he never put two sentences together in the pres- 
ence of an audience in his life, and was helpless 
in such an hour as that. Morrison himself dared 
not champion his own cause, having publicly 
declined to enter the race, and Robert Morton 
was in Chicago. 

“Order a ballot,” Seth said, stepping down to 
the chairman. 

“Mr. Secretary,” the chairman said, softly, 
“call the townships.” 

In stentorian tones the clerk obeyed, and the 
ballot for State senator was begun, though no 
name had been formally presented. The battle 
was on. Not a township voted solid, and at 
each township there was a delay until the dele- 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


324 

gation could be polled. The call was completed. 
The secretary hastily figured the result, jotted it 
down on a slip of paper, and handed it to the 
chairman. 

“Read it yourself! Read it yourself!” they 
called to the clerk. 

He took the paper out of the chairman’s 
hands, and read : 

“Throckmorton, 77; Morrison, 78!” 

There was a cheer, but it quickly subsided. 

“Mr. Chairman!” It was Thaddeus again. 
“ I move the nomination of Mr. Morrison be 
made unanimous.” 

It was so ordered. 

Then the Convention adjourned, and all went 
home sad. Thaddeus and his friends were sad, 
because he had lost. Wendell and his friends 
were sad, because it had been so slight and so 
dearly-bought a victory. 

“It is night, it is night, son of my well-be- 
loved friend,” Seth said, opening the door of the 
Banner office noiselessly, and speaking to Thad- 
deus, who sat in his chair, oppressed by his mis- 
fortune. “It is night; but a star arises, and the 
day is not distant. I will retire.” 

“May I came in?” 

Jennie Jessup stopped hesitatingly at the door 
which Seth had that instant abandoned to make 
room for her. 


THE CONVENTION. 


325 


“Do!” said Thaddeus, springing to his feet. 
He advanced to meet her, and, giving her his 
hand, stood silent, not daring to say more lest 
his strong emotion should quite overcome him. 
At that instant heavy footfalls on the stair an- 
nounced the approach of several men, and Jennie 
could only have time to say hurriedly, as she 
warmly clasped his hand in hers : 

“Be comforted! It is far better to deserve 
success than to gain the day unworthily ! 
Good-bye !” 

22 


XXX. 


JENNIE JESSUP. 


HAT night found Thaddeus at Miss Jes- 



sup’s home ; for he felt that he owed it to 


her to express his appreciation of her sympathy 
and confidence as manifested by her call at his 
office, something he had been prevented from 
doing at the time by the presence of strangers. 
He rang the bell, and, without waiting for any 
one to answer, he stepped inside the hall, and 
was hanging his hat on the rack when Miss 
Jennie appeared. 

“You didn’t expect me to-night, did you?” 
he said, in response to her look of surprise. 

“ Did not expect you, certainly ; but you are 
welcome, nevertheless.” 

“I am sure 1 am,” he said, seating himself in 
an easy-chair, and then added : “ This is my 
other home, you know. Here I am as much at 
ease as in my mother’s home. Queer, is n’t it ? 
I do not feel that way anywhere else in town.” 

“That is a compliment that I appreciate, as 
does my mother,” Jennie said, blushing in spite 
of her effort not to do so ; “ though I believe it 
is not a new one.” 


326 


JENNIE JESSUP. 


327 


“Hardly,” Thaddeus said, not noticing Jen- 
nie’s embarrassment; “ for I just now recall that 
that is my usual preliminary remark here. It 
takes the place of saying, ‘ The weather is fine 
for this time of the year.’ ” 

“I am surprised, but delighted, to find you 
so cheerful after the Convention. I suppose you 
thought it strange for me to call at your office. 
It was a little bit unwomanly perhaps ; but I 
presumed upon old acquaintanceship ; and, be- 
sides, I thought a word then would count more 
than a score later on — after everybody had ex- 
pressed sympathy, or you had recovered from 
your disappointment.” 

“That is true. You surprised me by coming; 
but I did not think it strange, and certainly not 
unwomanly. Our long-standing friendship, our 
recent campaign together in the temperance 
work, not to mention the memory of our school- 
days, — all made it seem very natural. I came 
to-night purposely to tell you how very kind it 
was in you to do that very thing! You are 
still the whole-hearted and sensible girl you 
were, Jennie, when we were pupils in the old 
academy.” 

“I am so glad you do not take your defeat to 
heart,” she replied, earnestly. 

“Do you know, I am surprised at myself? 
At first I was crushed. When the first cyclone 


328 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


of applause broke upon the Convention, and I 
saw what a hold Morrison had on the masses, I 
choked with grief, and was strangled with fear. 
Nor did I get any relief until I stood on my feet, 
and moved his nomination.” 

“Did you do that?” she exclaimed in aston- 
ishment, interrupting him. 

“Certainly. It was the proper thing to do, 
though it cost me a fierce struggle with pride. 
I got my reward, however, in the ballot. He 
was chosen by only one majority ; and if I had 
not spoken, or if I had not moved his nomina- 
tion, I believe he would have carried the Con- 
vention by storm, and I would not have been 
mentioned. As it was, we measured strength, 
and, to my delight and his chagrin, it was almost 
a drawn battle. But I was down — away down — 
when you came. I felt that I would quit the 
town at once and forever.” 

“As your father did,” Jennie said, medita- 
tively, at that instant studying the carpet, and 
not Thaddeus’s face. Had she not been, she 
would have seen the light fade from his counte- 
nance before the swift-moving cloud of distress 
that swept across his memory. For several sec- 
onds there was silence, when he said, slowly and 
sadly : 

“An inherited weakness!” 


JENNIE JESSUP. 


329 


And when her eyes questioned his, and he 
saw the regretful look on her face, he added : 

“This fleeing from a shadow, I mean. But / 
didn't go, Jennie. Give me credit for that." 

“Pardon me! I should not have said that. 
I did not mean to. Mother was talking to me, 
just before you came in, and it was in my mind ; 
for she alluded to it. I know how it distresses 
you. I will not refer to it again.” 

“But, as I was saying,” Thaddeus went on, 
“ I was feeling very despondent when you came. 
Seth was at the door just before you, and, in his 
peculiar way, comforted me ; and then your com- 
ing was like a burst of sunshine on a rainy 
spring day.” 

“Thank you! You are truly complimentary 
to-night,” she said, quietly. 

“It is no compliment, Jennie Jessup,” he re- 
plied, adopting a form of address that carried 
them both back to their school-days, and their 
long, long ago love affair. “ I would despise 
myself to speak compliments merely at such a 
time. I am in earnest. You will not know what 
you saved me from — you and Seth. I was at 
the verge of an awful step — a cowardly step — a 
disgraceful step. Every true man must feel it 
to be a disgrace to flee from duty because he 
must suffer if he stays. Your words — ‘It is 


330 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


better to deserve success and fail than to succeed 
and deserve failure ’ — were as a trumpet blast 
arousing me ; and your manner, Jennie Jessup — 
so hearty, so warm, so unaffected and unstudied — 
revived my spirit as wine strengthens the faint 
in body. I have come to tell you that I — I — 
linger fondly over that scene.” 

“ I do not deserve such praise,” she said, 
softly, “ and — pardon me — it hardly is right to 
receive such words from you, knowing, as I do, 
your relations to Josie Tracy.” 

“ Do me the honor to believe me when I say 
that there is nothing in my relations with any 
one to prevent your receiving such words, or any 
I may speak, if you will but take them. They 
are sincere !” 

“ I believe you, Thaddeus, I could not do 
otherwise ; for you have never deceived me.” 

“ Never, Jennie, unless I was deceived my- 
self. Sometimes I think I am easily deceived, 
and may have led others astray on that account.” 

“ But do you think Cousin Wendell will be 
elected ?” 

“ O yes ; the majority in this district is large, 
and the opposition have no hope of beating Mor- 
rison or any other man on the ticket.” 

“ Unless he beats himself! Poor cousin Wen- 
dell ! I am afraid drink will ruin him ! Just an 
evening or two ago he was here, and so intoxi- 


JENNIE JESSUP. 


331 


cated that he was like a demented man. He 
said things that he would not have said for the 
world when sober. He told me a long story 
about Josie Tracy. Indeed, he said he was en- 
gaged to her ; but I told him I knew better ; that 
you were the favorite there, and so on. But he 
ridiculed the idea, and said you were ‘ out,’ and 
such nonsense.” 

“ Of course,” Thaddeus said, evasively, “ you 
can put no confidence in anything a man says 
when he is under the influence of liquor. And 
yet I have known men in that condition to tell 
the exact truth. It seemed an accident ; not a 
deliberate purpose.” 

“ And another thing he told me seemed queer. 
I wish he had not told me, even if it is not true. 
He said he had been spending weeks in straight- 
ening up Judge Tracy’s title to his property ; 
that perhaps the whole thing would have to go 
through the courts.” 

“ Nonsense !” Thaddeus said, impatiently. 
“ There is no better real estate lawyer in the na- 
tion than Judge Tracy. It is incredible that a 
man whose opinion in such matters is taken as 
law by everybody, should himself be the victim 
of a defective title, or should depend on so care- 
less a lawyer as Morrison for clearing away a 
cloud.” 

“ But he said,” persisted Jennie, “ that the 


332 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


defect was in the title before Judge Tracy’s day, 
and that it did not appear until he wanted to sell 
a part of his estate.” 

“ Perhaps so ; but I can not believe it. I 
will quietly look into it myself. While Morrison 
is running for office, I will be looking up his title 
to landed estates, if what he told you is true,” he 
said, with a forced laugh. 

“ What is true ? About Josie, or the judge ?” 

“Both!” 

“For years and years our family had trouble 
about titles. Of course I do not know much 
about it; but I have heard mother and Uncle 
Morrison talk it over. They do not agree in 
every particular, and it is hard for them to keep 
in good humor with each other when that sub- 
ject comes up. It is so annoying! I would 
rather lose a small fortune than to go into the 
courts, and have family matters looked into by 
strangers. So mother says, too. She is proud 
of her family name. One thing, though, I never 
could understand, and that is why Uncle Mor- 
rison is so wealthy, and mother has only barely 
enough to keep her. It seems to me there was 
an unfair division somewhere.” 

“ Not necessarily,” Thaddeus said, thought- 
fully. “ Your uncle is a great man to make good 
bargains, and his real estate deals have been 
wonderfully profitable. Your mother, I suppose, 


JENNIE JESSUP. 


333 


lias been content to take legal interest on her 
money, and — ” 

“ Not so. Her money is with Uncle Mor- 
rison’s. At least he pays her interest. But why 
does his grow into houses and farms, and ours 
not?” 

“ That is a question,” Thaddeus said. “While 
I am studying Judge Tracy’s titles, shall I look 
up your matters? Seeing that it is all in the 
family, I might just as well,” he said, gayly. 

“Do!” Jennie replied; and then the conver- 
sation drifted off into other channels, and Thad- 
deus found ten o’clock all too near, as they re- 
viewed together school-days and after years. 

“Well, well!” he said, rising to go, “if one 
had told me at five o’clock — when I was mur- 
dered figuratively by your cousin — that at ten 
o’clock I would be laughing and chatting with 
you, like a real live man, I should have thought 
him daft!” 

“Come again — soon!” Jennie said, extend- 
ing her hand. 

“May I?” he asked, eagerly. “Though this 
is my other home, I like to be asked to come, and 
like to be treated a little as if I were not home- 
folks when I go away,” he said. 

“ I was going to walk to the gate with you,” 
she said, laughingly ; “but as I would not do that 
with any but home-folks, I will stop here.” 


334 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“Do come!” he replied, taking her hand 
upon his arm, and without much entreaty she 
permitted him to lead her to the gate. 

“ If there is n’t Seth Russell !” Thaddeus said, 
as he passed out into the street, and waited until 
the old man joined him. 

“Good-night! Sweet be thy dreams,” he 
said, bowing to Miss Jennie; and then, turning, 
he walked off with Seth, who did not, appar- 
ently, see the young lady at the gate, yet, not- 
withstanding, he saw and understood. 

“ Son of my beloved friend, the polar star is 
unchanging. Whatever sea you are on, let its 
light be your guide ! God is unchanging. With 
him is no variableness, nor shadow of turning! 
God is love ! Hence true love changeth not. 
True love is the polar star of human life. Son 
of my beloved friend, take your eyes off the 
moon’s fair face, though she sweeps the heavens 
in queenly beauty ! When the moon has gone 
from sight, the polar star remains. The moon 
is friendship ; the star is love !” 

“What an odd fellow you are!” Thaddeus 
said, impulsively, and reached out his hand to 
clasp that of his faithful guide; but at that in- 
stant he darted into an alley, and was gone, call- 
ing back impressively: 

“Remember what I say, and mark it well — 
mark it well!” 


XXXI. 

TWO CALLS. 

TTTHE office of the recorder of deeds of Bram- 
ir County gave up to Wendell Morrison 
some very surprising secrets as he was gather- 
ing information concerning the title to the piece 
of property Judge Tracy had contracted to sell 
at such a good bargain. 

The same records were open to the inspec- 
tion of Thaddeus Throckmorton, or any other 
person who cared to examine them ; so when he 
began to follow the indications brought to view 
at his first real search after the truth — a task 
taken up out of curiosity, after his call upon 
Miss Jessup the evening of the day of his de- 
feat in the Convention — he was surprised at the 
revelations the musty old books made. But the 
political campaign was at its height soon after- 
ward, and his duties as editor and reporter — for 
he must be both — interfered with his searching 
the records, and he was compelled to defer full 
investigation until after the election. 

But Morrison was not less busy, having calls 
to speak every day up to the time of election. 
He, too, was compelled to put off his investiga- 
tions to a more convenient season. 


335 


336 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


His district was thought to be so reliably 
certain that he was taken by the Central Com- 
mittee to other portions of the State, where he 
did efficient service for his party, and returned 
home in time to vote, with accumulated laurels, 
and a dazzling name as an orator. That he 
had kept sober during his speech-making tour 
was a great delight to his real friends, and a 
sore disappointment to his political enemies, 
who had predicted his return in disgrace before 
a week had passed. They were false prophets, 
every one of them. 

He had written to Miss Josie nearly every 
day of his absence. He could not well avoid 
it, for she wrote to him every day a letter that 
was intended to restrain him — if a letter could 
do such a thing — and was also intended to fos- 
ter and develop her love for him. She felt the 
need of loving him more, if she was to be his 
wife, and deliberately set about to develop her 
love to a proper degree. She forgot his weak- 
nesses, bis meannesses, his heartlessness, and 
thought only of the brilliant orator, the success- 
ful lawyer, the rising politician, the humble sup- 
pliant at her feet, the very gallant and always en- 
tertaining escort. She forgot his carousals, and 
remembered only his conquests. She forgot his 
broken pledge to sobriety, and remembered only 
her promise to be his wife. With the forgotten 


TWO CALLS. 


337 


things behind her, and the remembered things 
before, she wrote, every day, womanly and yet 
guardedly ardent letters to her lover. But as 
she wrote she caught herself blushing painfully, 
though in the privacy of her own room. Blush- 
ing, not for love of the man she called her be- 
trothed, but because the words she traced were 
so dazzling and so empty ; because they so 
mocked the throbbings of her heart. 

“ It is false, and I will not send it !” she said 
once, twice, and very often as time slipped by, 
when a sheet of note-paper had been filled with 
words of affectionate regard ; so she tore it into 
shreds, crushed them in her hands, and crowded 
the mass down deep in the silken bag that 
hung by her desk for such scraps. But straight- 
way she would begin another letter, would write 
more deliberately, and choose her words more 
wisely, and the corrected epistle would be 
mailed in haste lest it, too, should find its pre- 
decessor in the dark depths of the bag that 
beckoned it to its legitimate resting-place. 

What could Wendell do but answer these 
daily missives ? And answer them he did ; an- 
swered them as he answered all his letters, 
promptly, briefly, and without unnecessary gen- 
tleness. Without his knowing it — for he did not 
take time to think about it — his answers all took 
the same shape, and amounted to the same thing. 


338 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“Miss Josie” — they would begin, and then 
would rush on like this, in a very clear, but ex- 
ceedingly fine hand: 

“Yours received. Glad to get it. Did me good. Write 
again. Great meeting last night. Crowded house. Fine 
music, — and a splendid speech, they all say. Have no time 
to write. See the daily. Wendeu,.” 

He need not have suggested that she should 
look up what the dailies said about him. She 
saw the papers, and was not insensible to the 
reflected honor. Truly Wendell Morrison was 
famous. His speeches were printed in full many 
times, and the papers lauded him to the skies. 
But she was not satisfied. She fed on husks. 
Her heart was starving, and she did not know 
what was the cause. 

“ He will be home to-morrow. I wonder if 
he will call here first?” she said, musingly. “I 
hope so ; for it would be very humbling to my 
pride not to have at least a call at once.” 

And her pride was humbled! Why should 
Wendell call on her, when he arrived home to 
find that, while he was gone, his hired servants 
had been asleep, and his enemies had sowed 
tares in his political field. With the quick ap- 
prehension of a trained politician, he discovered 
signs of defeat at his very door. With con- 
summate skill and unparalleled energy, he ral- 
lied his forces, and pushed hard for victory. In 


TWO CALLS. 


339 


vain ! He was not elected ! The whole State 
was carried by, his party, but his district elected 
the opposition candidate. It was very mortify- 
ing. Telegrams of condolence poured in upon 
him; but they could not change the result, and 
went but little way toward healing the wound. 
He sat gloomily in his office the next day, sur- 
rounded by a group of his local adherents, 
listening with curling lip to their explanations 
of the causes of his defeat, and casting off with 
a sneer their well-meant but ill-chosen words of 
consolation, committing them all with angry 
vituperation to the lowest depths of Hades, 
when some one said, in a low tone : 

“A lady, Morrison, wants to see you.” 

“Who is it?” 

“Miss Tracy, I believe.” 

“Tell her I am busy. Call again some other 
time.” 

No need to tell her. She had heard, and she 
retreated down the steps in hot indignation, her 
eyes blinded by tears of stricken pride. But she 
did not call again ; nor did Morrison call on her 
until several days had passed, and the news of 
his defeat had ceased to be a current topic. That 
call was very unsatisfactory, except in one par- 
ticular. He asked, and she readily granted, an 
indefinite postponement of their marriage, which 
had been set for the holidays. 


340 


AN ODD FELLOW. ' 


Wendell’s bearing toward Thaddeus changed 
completely after the election. Instead of haughti- 
ness and a domineering manner, there appeared 
studied politeness and courteous consideration. 
He seemed to accord the young editor a foot- 
ing equal to his own, and treated him as a peer 
and not as an inferior. The responsive soul of 
Thaddeus ran to meet these overtures of peace, 
and rejoiced that the Banner had given Wendell 
unfaltering support, and his defeat could not be 
charged to silent resentment of that paper on ac- 
count of the loss of the nomination. 

“ It almost pays me for what I suffered, to see 
Wendell so humbled and so softened by his fail- 
ure,” Thaddeus said, to Jennie Jessup, one even- 
ing, a month or two later. 

“And it pays me,” she replied, with pardon- 
able flushing of her face, as she slipped her arm 
in his and led him to the parlor, “for all I have 
suffered these years, to see Thaddeus so humbled 
and so softened by his failure to win an heiress 
that he will come back to his always faithful and 
devoted Jennie, of school-days’ attachment.” 

“Come back?” he exclaimed. “I am not sure 
that I ever got away; though, I must confess, I 
tried very hard. But do not blame me, Jennie ; 
that is, do not censure me too strongly. I thought 
I might just as well marry rich as poor ; and, 
then, there was much that was congenial between 


TWO CALLS. 


341 


‘ the heiress ’ and myself— if you will persist in 
calling your old friend by such a title.” 

“That is right, my dear. You are good at con- 
fessing. No, I do not think you ever really got 
away ; for, ‘can you tell me how love cometh ?’ ” 
she said. 

“‘It does not come,’” he quickly answered; 
‘ ’t is sent.’ ” 

“And, ‘can you tell me how love goeth?’” 
she asked brightly. 

“‘It was not love that went,’” he said, 
laughingly. 

“Of course not; for you are here,” she re- 
turned, warmly. “ So, now, we will let that sub- 
ject drop, for a while.” 

“About a minute?” he asked, teasingly. 

“Yes — or a half.” 

“But, before I forget it, did you not tell me, 
Jennie, your mother had a genealogical chart of 
her family?” 

“Yes; one reaching back to the family that 
first came to America.” 

“Well, let me take it when I go home. I 
have run against a snag in my search in the rec- 
ords that it will help me remove. Now, do n’t 
forget. You promised it to me the last time I 
was here, but let me go off without it.” 

“I suppose that is what brought you down 
to-night?” 


23 


342 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“Partly — principally, perhaps.” 

“Well, if you take it with you, you will have 
no excuse for coming to-morrow night.” 

“O yes, I will! Choir-practice, you know?” 

“That reminds me! Let us look over this 
new anthem-book. It has such lovely duets in 
nearly every piece. Mr. Outwright said, last 
Sunday — you were not there, you know — that he 
was hungry for another duet ; that he had not 
heard us sing any since the temperance cam- 
paign. Let us surprise him next Sunday?” 

“Good ! He deserves to be surprised. He is 
so like a father to me.” 

“There ! I guess that will do for one !” Jen- 
nie exclaimed, two hours later, as they went 
through, the third time, a faultless arrangement 
of a striking duet. 

“There!” Thaddeus exclaimed, in the same 
breath. “ The clock in the steeple strikes ten, 
and I am not at home yet!” 

And so it was that, in the hurry of his de- 
parture, taking into account the many hin- 
drances — finding his hat, his gloves, and so on — 
the chart was forgotten again, and the next day 
nothing was done by him in his search among 
the musty records. But Wendell was buried in 
the great books that were to play such a part in 
the affairs of both Miss Tracy and Thaddeus 
Throckmorton. 


XXXII. 


SEARCHING THE RECORDS. 

T HERE was one thing Wendell Morrison 
knew about Judge Tracy’s real-estate af- 
fairs before he began the search of the records : 
that was, that a large part of the estate was Mrs. 
Tracy’s by will of her father. Wendell knew 
this through common report, and not from the 
testimony of the records. In his search he came 
upon the will, and found his belief confirmed 
thereby; but he found more. He discovered 
that this estate — Mrs. Tracy’s — descended to 
Miss Josie at the death of her mother, and that 
a stated amount of the income therefrom, a very 
handsome sum, was to be annually paid to Miss 
Josie after she was of age. But as Judge Tracy 
was sole executor of the will, without bond, and 
as Miss Josie was careless of her rights — seeing 
her father supplied every want, real or imagin- 
ary, in a generous way — it was doubtful whether 
the stated amount had annually been paid over 
to her. If it had not, a small fortune belonging 
to Miss Josie was in her father’s hands. 

“In bank-stock, doubtless,” Wendell said to 
himself, with a low whistle of satisfaction as he 

343 


344 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


replaced the documents he had been examining 
in the probate judge’s office. 

He turned from his investigation of the will 
to the record of deeds, further to trace the title 
he was endeavoring to quiet, and was surprised 
and startled to find that Mrs. Tracy and Miss 
Josie had transferred to Judge Tracy all their 
right, title, and share in the Eysander estate, the 
consideration, as the record had it, being “ one 
dollar in hand paid, and love and affection.” 

“Fools! fools! fools!” he said, slamming the 
pages of the huge record together, and turning 
to leave the office. He had spoken aloud. 

“Who are fools?” the clerk asked, looking up 
from his desk. 

“Everyboody !” Wendell exclaimed, throwing 
open the office-door in a vengeful way, letting it 
swing back into its place with a loud bang. 

The clerk smiled broadly, and kept on at 
work ; while Wendell sought the privacy of his 
own office, and took what consolation he could 
get out of his expensive cigar, as he meditated 
upon how to get rid of his engagement to a 
penniless “ heiress.” He meditated only a few 
minutes, however, and then sprang to his feet, 
saying wrathfully : 

“Everybody is a fool, and I am the biggest!” 

Immediately his dark face took on a more 
cheerful expression, and a smile played about 


SEARCHING THE RECORDS. 345 

his lips. He gathered up his memoranda con- 
cerning the title in question, and returned to the 
office of the registrar of deeds, quite gayly enter- 
ing upon the work he had so recently abandoned 
in disgust. 

“It is a small matter after all,” he said, and 
laughed softly at his own foolish fears of a short 
time before, “ that she deeded the property to 
her father, since she is his only heir.” 

While Wendell was in the office of the regis- 
trar, Thaddeus came in, hastily examined a rec- 
ord, and went out. 

“What is Trockmorton up to?” the clerk 
asked Wendell. 

“I don’t know. Why?” Wendell replied, 
carelessly. 

“I supposed you would; for he has been 
tracing the Morrison real estate.” 

“How’s that?” Wendell asked, interestedly. 

“He has been making inquiries about the 
Morrison genealogy, and looking through the 
records for Morrison transfers.” 

“I can not guess,” Wendell said, with a tone 
and an air that were meant to convey the idea 
that he did not care. 

The clerk had left his desk, and was standing 
by the table where Morrison had a huge volume 
spread out, expecting, no doubt, a bit of gossip, 
or an inkling of Throckmorton’s purpose. Wen- 


346 


AN ODD. FELLOW. 


dell’s sudden relapse into indifference puzzled 
him, and as no further information was given or 
requested, the clerk returned to his writing, and 
the attorney continued his searchings in silence. 

Wendell returned, after a time, to his office, 
quite well pleased with his day’s work; but dis- 
turbed in mind by the information that the 
clerk had imparted. If true, and he did not 
doubt it, there must be some object back of it. 
What interest had Thaddeus in Morrison affairs? 
That is the question Wendell pondered upon. 
He had given little heed to Thaddeus’s visits to 
Mrs. Jessup’s home. It possessed no signifi- 
cance to him. He did not know that Miss Josie 
had broken an engagement with Thaddeus to 
accept him ; though he knew Thaddeus was not 
then, as formerly, a frequent caller at Judge 
Tracy’s. He attributed that more to Thaddeus’s 
increasing independence of thought and action, 
as manhood took on strength and wisdom. 
What attracted his attention and awakened sur- 
prise was mention of property interests. He 
thought hard and fast, and, after a long time, 
came back to the remembrance that his Aunt 
Jessup had not quit-claimed her interest to his 
father. That remembrance was an electric-shock. 

“Jupiter Pluvius !” he said, excitedly. “ I 
will make father get that deed this very day.” 

With that he hurried out on the street, and 


SEARCHING THE RECORDS. 


347 


made a tour of the principal business places, 
hunting for Major Morrison, that he might lay 
the matter before him. He came back to his 
office, a half-hour later, vexed because he had 
not found his father, and was surprised to see 
him sitting in Judge Tracy’s big chair, awaiting 
his son’s return. Wendell lost no time in stat- 
ing the case. His father heard him through, 
and said : 

“It surely is recorded, Wendell; for Judge 
Tracy told me at the time that he would get it. 
I supposed he had it. Ask him about it, and 
if he says he did n’t, I will see to it at once.” 

Major Morrison’s quiet and confident manner 
had its effect on Wendell. He admitted he was 
too hasty in his conclusions, and the two drifted 
off into other subjects. When Major Morrison 
had gone, Wendell went to a compartment in 
the office-safe where he knew Judge Tracy kept 
deeds and kindred papers, and examined the 
vast collection carefully. He did not find, as he 
hoped, the unrecorded quit-claim deed ; but he 
did find, very unexpectedly, a document that re- 
paid him for his trouble, he thought. It was an 
old deed, conveying one hundred and sixty acres 
of Missouri land to Richard Throckmorton “for 
and in consideration of one dollar in hand paid, 
and legal advice and services in the case of The 
People vs. John Thompson.” This yellow and 


348 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


soiled document — colored from age, and soiled 
by repeated handling in shuffling the pile of 
papers of which it was one— had no filing marks 
on it, and Wendell rightly concluded that it had 
never been recorded, either. 

“I will make a memorandum of the land, 
and look it up,” he said, putting the papers back 
in the safe. “If I find it is worth anything, I 
will trade for it — at least, buy Thad’s equity. 
I suppose he is in profound ignorance of this 
property.” 

The mail that left Brambleville an hour later, 
carried a letter to a prominent law firm in the 
county in Missouri, where the land was located, 
in which Wendell asked for information as to the 
probable value of the land described. In a few 
days the answer came, and it startled Morrison 
by its statements. The land lay adjacent to 
Kansas City, and, the letter said, was very valu- 
able acre property that could be platted, and made 
an addition to that booming city. 

“Here’s rtiy chance!” Morrison said, striking 
the desk a resounding blow. “I ’ll buy up Mrs. 
Throckmorton and Thad before they know what 
they are selling, and will pocket the profits.” 

Nor did he lose any time in making his pro- 
posal to Thaddeus. He appeared unconcerned, 
and as having only a moderate desire for the 
property when telling Thaddeus about it, and 


SEARCHING THE RECORDS. 349 

said to conclude with, “Of course your equity is 
all I buy. It would have to go through the 
courts, and your father’s death would need to be 
proven some way. I may lose all I put in it, but 
still if you would rather have a thousand dollars 
than your right to this property, just say so, and 
I will give you a check, or at least father will.” 

Thaddeus was in his shirt-sleeves in the mid- 
dle of the composing-room, where Wendell found 
him helping the printers get out the Banner on 
time. 

After several seconds of silent consideration, 
he began, “I will take it,” but, turning abruptly, 
gave some order to the foreman before complet- 
ing the sentence. 

“ All right,” promptly replied Wendell, “I will 
bring father up right after dinner.” 

“Hold!” Thaddeus called. “You do not un- 
derstand me. I will take it under advisement, and 
will talk with mother about it.” 

“You will!” Wendell exclaimed, very visibly 
nettled by this unlooked-for step. “ Do so, if 
you think best; but, mind you, I do not make 
that proposition indefinitely. Perhaps by to-mor- 
row I will have changed my mind. Indeed, I 
am almost sorry now I offered it. It was a fool- 
ish thing to do without seeing the property ; but 
I did it, and will stand by it until morning.” 

“Very well,” Thaddeus said, quietly, and 


350 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


turned to his work without so much as a word of 
surprise at the discovery. 

Wendell returned to his office in a rage. He 
well knew that Thaddeus would not sell at any 
price he could name, if he took time to investi- 
gate the property. 

Wendell was correct. Thaddeus investigated 
and immediately declined even to name a price 
he would sell for. 

Wendell consoled himself by thinking the title 
would probably be very much clouded by tax- 
sales and delinquencies of various kinds, and in 
the end Thaddeus would rue his refusal to sell. 

It was about this time that Mr. Outwright 
called upon Thaddeus to make inquiries about 
the Tingleman children. 

“ Who helps you take care of them ?” he asked, 
and then remarked, “ Some money could be appro- 
priated out of the Charity Fund on Thanksgiv- 
ing-day, if you think it right to be done.” 

“Thank you,” said Thaddeus, coloring 
slightly. “ Mother has learned to love the little 
fellows very much ; and they love her, I am sure. 
We do not think of them except as part of our 
family. I would just as soon think of taking 
charity money for myself, as for them. I do not 
miss what they require, but I would miss them 
if taken away.” 

Those were simple words, spoken in unaffected 


SEARCHING THE RECORDS. 


351 


manner, as Thaddeus leaned upon the showcase 
in which the fine cards and stationery were kept, 
the minister just in front of him ; and yet there 
was something in the words, or perhaps in the 
manner of the young editor, that touched Mr. 
Outwright’s heart, and he said impulsively, lay- 
ing his hand in a blessing upon Thaddeus’s 
shoulder : 

“God bless you! You are an odd fellow; but 
I am sure the Father will reward you for caring 
for his orphans.” 

“ He does,” Thaddeus replied, earnestly. “ He 
does, Mr. Outwright. I get back in money all I 
spend on them, and get back in love and friend- 
ship all I give them, and more too.” 

“ I believe you do ! Well, I will not trouble 
myself any further about your wards, since you 
and the Father have such a perfect understand- 
ing of the case. I am willing to trust you both, 
or either of you.” 

“Thank you !” 

“Well, I hope the boys will grow up to be 
industrious and bright, and will, by and by, take 
the Banner off your hands, and keep you in old 
age as you keep them now.” 

“I hope so,” Thaddeus said, with a smile; 
and the pastor went out to look after needy or- 
phans, who had no such protector as this “odd 
fellow,” as he so often called Thaddeus. 


352 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


An hour later Thaddeus was surprised by a 
call that was unheralded, for Henry Tingletnan 
walked into the Banner office, and abruptly said: 

“I have come for my children !” 

For a moment Thaddeus was puzzled to make 
out who the man was; for he was greatly im- 
proved in appearance since they last met. He 
was well-dressed, had a cleanly-shaven face, and 
wore an air of self-respect and reliance. 

“You have !” Thaddeus said, arising to greet 
him. “ Why, Tingleman, you have been made 
over ! Where do you come from ?” 

“That’s right, Throckmorton, I have been 
made over, and I come from Kansas City, praise 
the Ford !” 

“But you are not after the boys!” Thaddeus 
said, with keen disappointment, remembering 
how his mother would hate to let them go. 

“Yes; I have come to take them off your 
hands. I suppose you thought I had forgotten 
them and you ; but 1 had n’t. I am doing well 
out West. I am joint car-inspector for all the 
roads in the city, and have been converted to 
Jesus Christ. Praise the Ford !” 

“ Tingleman,” Thaddeus said, eying him 
closely, and feeling a thrill of pleasure he could 
not describe, as he looked upon the sober and 
sincere man before him. “ Tingleman, when I 
last saw you, you were a swearer, and now I hear 


SEARCHING THE RECORDS 


353 


you blessing the L,ord instead of cursing. You 
used to drink, and now you are sober. You do 
not know how happy it all makes me!” 

“Nor you do not know how happy it makes 
me. Praise the. Rord!” Tingleman replied. “I 
am not the same man. I have been born again, 
and I have come to show the boys their father.” 

“To be sure ! And now let us hasten, for I 
am keeping you from them. It is dinner-time 
anyway. How glad mother will be, and yet how 
sad, too, if you take her boys from her!” 

It was very late in the afternoon when Thad- 
deus returned to his office ; for he lingered long 
after dinner at home with his mother, Tingle- 
man, and the boys. His friend had much to tell 
him about Kansas City. Thaddeus was delighted 
to learn from this disinterested witness evidence 
of the value of all real estate in that city at that 
time. He returned to his work with a lighter 
heart than when he went home ; for the boys 
were to stay with them until Tingleman should 
have a home of his own. 

“That will be a long time,” he said, softly. 
“I can not forget my angel in heaven long enough 
to think of another.” 

But Tingleman had another object in return- 
ing to Brambleville. He had met in the West a 
man who said he was Richard Throckmorton, 
and who had made special inquiry for Thaddeus, 


354 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


though he knew not his name, designating him 
only as “ my child,” and Tingleman wanted to 
satisfy himself of the stranger’s identity before 
he accepted his statements, or made known his 
discovery. 


XXXIII. 


AN UNEXPECTED RETURN. 

TD ICHARD THROCKMORTON came home; 

but he came as he had gone, silently in 
the dead of night, unannounced and unexpected — 
unexpected by all except one, and that was Seth 
Russell. From the day he heard that Throck- 
morton was alive, and had been seen by Tingle- 
man, Seth met every east-bound train, whether 
it came at noon or at midnight. He watched 
with feverish anxiety for the stepping off of the 
cars of one who would be so strange as to justify 
his asking him if he were Throckmorton. He 
came one midnight when Seth and the night 
operator were the only persons at the depot 
when the train rolled in. No need to ask if 
that were Throckmorton ! Seth recognized him 
at sight. Who would not recognize that tall 
form, that massive head, that bearing of a king, 
if he had ever seen it before ? And yet the form 
was bent, the hair was long and white as the 
snow, the large mouth was uncovered by mus- 
tache, though a long beard exactly matched the 
hair in color, and the eyes were almost hidden 
in the mass of wrinkles that encircled them, ex- 

355 


4 


356 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


cept when opened in surprise. There was a 
childlike simplicity and timidness in the move- 
ments of this stalwart man that belied his ap- 
pearance, and that touched all hearts. His man- 
ner was that of one lost in deep study, and not 
until he was engaged in conversation did the 
awful truth flash upon the inquirer out of the 
mass of bright and beautiful ideas expressed in 
elegant language, with which he repaid such at- 
tention given him. He was sadly bereft of rea- 
son. He lived in the past, with just enough of 
attention to the present to keep him from acci- 
dent. His mind was strong and active, and he 
would grasp and hold any form of information 
while in actual use ; but then would follow lapses 
of memory and failure of volition, that were dis- 
tressing in the extreme. Such was the man that 
Seth Russell met that midnight hour. He fol- 
lowed him away from the light of the depot win- 
dow, as he started aimlessly down the street, and, 
when in the shadow of a building, he overtook 
him, saying: 

“Isn’t this Richard Throckmorton?” 

“The same, at your service. And who are 
you?” 

The haughtiness with which the answer to 
Seth’s inquiry was spoken, was in painful con- 
trast to the timid and wistful asking of the ques- 
tion that followed. 


AN UNEXPECTED RETURN. 


357 


“I am Seth Russell. You know me!” 

“Seth Russell!” Throckmorton exclaimed, in 
tones of glad surprise. “ Seth Russell, have n’t 
I been looking for you everywhere these years 
and years?” and immediately the strong man was 
overcome, and was a child again. He broke out 
into tears, and sobbingly said : 

“Why didn’t you come, Seth? I couldn’t 
find my way back. I have tried to get here, but 
always got lost somewhere.” 

This was said in weak and cooing tones, 
Throckmorton, the meanwhile, hugging his 
friend close to his breast. 

“ O my friend! my friend!” Seth exclaimed, 
as he hid his own tear-stained face in the bosom 
of his friend. It was clear to Seth that Throck- 
morton was unbalanced in mind. At once he 
had the key to his long absence. Sound in 
many respects, his mind was unreliable in many 
others. 

“Will you let me lead you home?” Seth asked 
finally, taking his hand, as one child walks with 
another whom it loves. 

“Yes, Seth, lead me home. The child, Seth? 
Is the child here, and is it well ?” 

“The child, Richard, the child!” said Seth, 
with difficulty suppressing the sobs that were 
breaking his heart. “The child will make you 
glad. It is here, and is well.” 

24 


358 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“And Alice, Seth ? Is Alice well ? Does she 
forgive me for not coming sooner?” 

“Yes, Alice is well, and is waiting for yon. 
She forgives you, and loves you dearly.” 

“Does she?” Throckmorton said, and, softly 
laughing, walked with Seth along the one-time 
familiar streets, heeding nothing, and eagerly 
stretching forward to get to Alice and the child, 
clinging to Seth’s hand with a clasp that clearly 
showed how afraid he was that he would lose 
him. 

At that very hour Thaddeus was in Kansas 
City with Tingleman, hunting for the man who 
said he was his father. Tingleman had been 
careful to learn the elder Throckmorton’s resi- 
dence, and all he could tell about himself; but 
when he returned, and Thaddeus with him, the 
old man had gone, no one knew where. So it 
happened that Mrs. Throckmoton was alone when 
Seth brought her husband to her. 

“ Here he is !” Seth said, as he led Throck- 
morton in. Mrs. Throckmorton having hastily 
dressed and come down in answer to Seth’s assur- 
ance that it was he who wanted to see her a 
minute. 

“Not Richard!” she said, standing for a mo- 
ment like a statue, her hands clasped before her, 
and her face darkening with grief, and almost in- 
stantly lightening up with joy and love. That 


AN UNEXPECTED RETURN. 359 

word “ Richard ” startled Throckmorton into 
consciousness. With stately grace, he stepped 
toward her with beaming countenance, and said, 
in tones that belonged to the long, long ago: 

“Alice, my darling !” 

“ Richard, my precious husband!” 

She clung to his neck, and kissed his lips, his 
face, his forehead repeatedly and passionately, 
while he held her close in his love-strong arms, 
and looked into her eyes with melting tenderness, 
softly saying: 

“Alice, Alice, my darling.” 

Presently he released her, and with an ex- 
pression that sent a chill to her soul, he said, 
moving toward the stairway : 

“The child, Alice! I must see the child!” 

“What child?” she asked wildly, guessing 
the truth, and yet refusing to believe it. 

“My child — our baby! Where is it?” 

“ It is night,” Seth said, gently. “ Let the 
child sleep, Richard. In the morning will be 
better.” 

“ Well,” he replied submissively, and taking 
the chair offered him at once became silent, an- 
swering all questions in monosyllables, and fail- 
ing to recognize even his wife. She, poor soul, 
sat sobbing her life away. Her Richard had in- 
deed returned for one blissful moment, but was 
now gone again. Would he ever know her again ? 


360 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


Like an infant they put him to bed, and then 
sat down to watch by his side until day should 
dawn. He slept peacefully while the wife and 
friend comforted each other in that hour of sad- 
ness, and dwelt lovingly upon the scenes and 
happenings of the years long gone. 

“He has not moved for an hour!” Seth said, 
as Mrs. Throckmorton put out the lamp and 
threw open the shutters. “ I was afraid that 
would awaken him,” he added, and going softly 
across the floor to the bed, he bent down to 
catch the sound of his breathing. He heard 
nothing. He put his hand on the forehead of 
the returned wanderer, and it was cold! He 
placed his finger on the pulse, and it was still! 
The sleep he slept was that which knows no 
waking. For him the morning had dawned! 
With a sigh of relief, Seth turned to Mrs. Throck- 
morton, who had been watching his movements 
with keenest interest, and said, very softly: 

“It is better so. He is at rest!” 

“Not — not — dead?” she gasped. 

“Dead!” Seth replied, chokingly ; for though 
it were better so, he felt the loss of one he had 
counted as alive through so many years of un- 
certainty. 

Weeping silently, Mrs. Throckmorton kneeled 
by the bed, took one cold hand in hers and 
pressed her cheek to it, and thanked the Father 


AN UNEXPECTED RETURN 


361 


for the privilege of knowing the day, the hour, 
and the place of her beloved Richard’s death. 

“It is not so hard now,” she said, arising and 
turning to Seth a tear-stained but peaceful face ; 
“for I know we shall meet soon!” 

“Ah, so we shall!” Seth said; but there was 
no smile upon his face. He brushed his hand 
across his eyes, and said: “I can not see !” 

“Are you ill?” Mrs. Throckmorton asked, 
anxiously; for a death-like pallor had driven the 
ruddy glow from his cheeks. 

“I think not. I have lost much sleep lately. 
I will go now and tell some friends, and then 
try to sleep a little. I will be back after dinner, 
if not before.” 

Within half an hour after Seth left, a score 
of sympathizing and rejoicing friends had gath- 
ered at Mrs. Throckmorton’s. The news of 
Throckmorton’s return and death spread rapidly 
through Brainbleville ; but a piece of news more 
startling still followed close upon it. When 
Seth Russell reached his own door he sank upon 
the porch exhausted, and died in the arms of his 
wife as she attempted to lift him up ! , 

When Thaddeus received the telegram con- 
taining the startling news of his double loss, he 
was astounded, and almost overwhelmed by its 
suddenness! He had counted so much on see- 
ing his father ! He had so longed for one word 


362 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


of a father’s blessing! Taking Tingleman with 
him, he hastened home. 

The two life-long friends — Richard Throck- 
morton and Seth Russell — were buried at the 
same hour, and very near each other. The vast 
concourse of friends who witnessed the burial 
returned to their homes to praise the two, and to 
wonder what such deaths and such scenes por- 
tended for the survivors. 

Tliaddeus, sorely stricken, would have fainted 
by the way but for the upholding of a Divine 
arm, and would have died of grief but for the 
refreshing love of a heart that beat in sympathy 
deep and true; for neither had she known a 
father’s love and protection. 


XXXIY. 


THE DAY-DAWN. 

T HERE is no antidote for grief equal to self- 
sacrificing labor for others. So Thaddeus 
found. Brambleville had lost much of its bright- 
ness for him, since Seth Russell fell asleep for 
all time. Life itself took on a somber hue when 
his father came home and died, leaving him 
without even the consolation of a single word of 
blessing. And yet the memory of Seth’s un- 
selfishness was a benediction, and the remem- 
brance of his cheerfulness inspired to like 
endeavor. Thaddeus lingered long over the 
account his mother gave of the intense desire of 
his father to see “the child — our baby!” He 
recalled again and again the noble form, the 
massive head, the striking features of his sire as 
he saw him clothed for burial, and the recollec- 
tion made him proud and happy. Nevertheless 
there came hours of intensest sorrow because he 
had never known the love, the strength, the wis- 
dom, the helpfulness of so noble a man. 

He mourned over the sudden departure of 
his old friend Seth. He wished that he might 
have been there so that he could have told him 

363 


3^4 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


that indeed “the night was passing, and the 
morning was near,” as he had predicted ; for the 
discovered possession in Kansas City had been 
sold for a sum that was beyond his fondest hope. 

So, despite the rays of light that penetrated 
the gloom that enveloped him — despite the sweet 
recollections that relieved the sorrowfulness of 
his meditations, he walked wearily, and was al- 
most ready to sink under his unexpected bur- 
dens. In his pastor he found a sympathizer and 
a helper. 

“ It is true, my friend and brother,” Mr. Out- 
wright said, as he sat by the editor’s table one 
noon hour — “it is true that life is essentially a 
tragedy. However bright and joyful its begin- 
ning, death is its end. However sweet human 
companionship may be, heart-breaking separa- 
tion is the result. But be not discouraged ! 
Life is before you ! Up, and prove yourself a 
hero ! Your opportunity has come ! Your tri- 
umph is at hand ! Rise to meet your new re- 
sponsibilities, and you shall be strengthened as 
your day demands ! But I need not thus en- 
treat you, for I know you will.” 

“By the help of the Master, I will!” 

Thaddeus arose, and leaning over his desk, 
gave his hand to the minister in token of the 
sincerity of his pledge. 

“Amen!” Mr. Outwright responded, feel- 


THE DAY-DAWN. 


365 


ingly, and both sat down, too much affected to 
say more for a few minutes. Presently Thad- 
deus spoke : 

“ Then you quite approve of the proposed 
temperance meeting at the Church, with Tingle- 
man as the chief speaker?” 

“ Most heartily ! It can not fail to do good. 
He can speak from experience, both as to the 
curse and the cure. We have had quite enough 
of the curse. Now let us learn something of the 
cure from one of the victims.” 

“What he can do on the platform is a ques- 
tion. He is wholly without practice. He tells 
me he never undertook to speak longer than 
three minutes in his life. But he says he knows 
his experience by heart, and is quite sure he can 
not tell it all in even an hour. He has no fear, 
and I do not know that / should have any; but 
I am a little afraid he will break down.” 

“Pray for him, my friend; pray for him, and 
God will do the rest.” 

“ I do pray for him, and he prays for himself, 
too, every night at our family worship. He 
makes a good prayer.” 

“ But how long will he remain here ?” 

“I do not know. He has a leave of absence 
for two weeks, but he says the time of his return 
will depend on the outcome of this meeting. I 
have an idea that if he succeeds here he wil 


3 66 


AN ODD FELLOW \ 


want to go on a lecture tour ; at least will want 
to visit all adjacent towns, and relate his experi- 
ence. He is intensely in earnest, and says he 
can not do enough to make good the ruin his 
past life has wrought.” 

But little did Thaddeus know what Henry 
Tingleman meant when he said the time of his 
return to Kansas City would depend on the out- 
come of this proposed meeting in the cause of 
temperance reform. Nobody knew except Tin- 
gleman and his God ! 

“Have plenty of good music, and keep it be- 
fore the people in the Banner , and we will have 
a crowded house and a rousing time. Good-bye ! 
God bless you !” 

Mr. Outwright went out, and Thaddeus turned 
to his work, hurrying through it that he might 
have time to devote to the details of the new 
temperance movement. The announcement that 
Henry Tingleman, a converted gambler and 
drunkard, would tell his experience, brought an 
audience that filled every available space in the 
largest church in Brambleville. To be sure, a 
hundred more could have been seated in the 
Music Hall, and another hundred could have 
found standing-room there ; but Tingleman said : 
“I must be in the house of God if I tell my ex- 
perience. I was born there, this last time, and 
I can talk better in my Father’s house than else- 


THE DA Y-DA WN. 


367 


where. God is my Father, and the Church is 
my mother ; so let me stand between them and 
speak!” 

Who could deny him his request? The music 
was good, even excellent ; but the people assem- 
bled had no ear for the music, though it was re- 
ceived with manifest approval. The prayer by 
the pastor was touching and full of power ; but 
the people were waiting for Tingleman, and had 
no thought for the prayer. Up to the offering of 
the prayer, Tingleman sat on the platform, pale, 
silent, and greatly agitated. He was dismayed 
by the sea of faces before him. He thought only 
of the people, and his thoughts fled affrighted 
from him. His breath came hard and sonorously, 
and he was on the eve of fleeing when Mr. Out- 
wright kneeled in prayer. Tingleman kneeled 
too. The vast audience gave but little heed to 
that prayer. But it was otherwise with Tingle- 
man. He followed every word, and clung to 
every petition, saying “Amen!” in his heart to 
every sentence. There were three in that assem- 
bly, at least — the praying pastor, the frightened 
servant, and the Blessed Master! The three 
were enough ! 

“Now, Lord,” the pastor said, “give thy serv- 
ant, who is to speak to-night, thought and utter- 
ance. Give him power, and may he magnify 
thy saving love !” 


3 68 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


They arose from their knees, and the congre- 
gation sang a moving song. 

Tingleman leaned over, and whispered to Mr. 
Outwright : 

“You have saved me! That prayer saved 
me! The Master is with me. I know he will 
help me !” 

And it was so ! 

“My friends,” Tinglemen commenced, in a 
clear, strong voice, his perfect self-possession 
and evident earnestness reassuring his friends 
and confounding his enemies, scores of whom 
were present in the gallery, and standing in the 
back part of the Church, “ I am to tell you to- 
night of a cure for drunkenness. That I have 
been a drunkard, all of yon know ; and a score 
or more of my former companions in sin, who 
are here to-night — I see them standing there and 
sitting up yonder in the gallery — could, if they 
would, testify to the awful truth that I was no 
common drunkard, but an uncommon one ; for 
I descended to the lowest depths. To my shame 
I say this. To my shame, and to the praise of 
my dear Master — who is also here to-night — I 
will tell you the story of my cursed life in the 
service of sin, and my happy life since I have 
been cured by the touch of Divine love.” 

There was a pause, during which the silence 
was so perfect that the ticking of the clock 


THE DA Y-DA WN. 


369 


against the gallery front sounded like the strokes 
of a hammer on a distant anvil. Tingleman 
stood with bowed head, and his body trembled 
with strong emotion. Lifting his eyes, and 
steadying his voice, he went on : 

“But first let me tell you of an angel I once 
knew. She was an angel on earth as truly as 
she is now an angel in heaven. Will you pardon 
me for this personal allusion? And yet I need 
not ask that, for all I say to-night must be 
purely personal. Need I tell you I mean my 
wife? Should I speak of my love for her, you 
might well hiss me down ; for, though I wor- 
shiped the ground on which she walked ; though 
her words were honey, and sweeter than the 
honeycomb to me; though her caress was balm 
for every wound, when I was sober, when I was 
myself — I gave her a hovel to live in ; I stopped 
her sweet mouth with gravestones ; I put her 
warm heart under the heel of my devilish appe- 
tite, and left her pure soul to the care of 
strangers — when I was drunk, when I was driven 
by devils with whips of scorpions! Her love 
could not save me. It was like a child couch- 
ing in the path of a hungry lion ! Let me now 
go back and tell you how I was debased, and 
how I have been saved.” 

For an hour he talked, and for an hour that 
audience was submissive to the power that was 


37o 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


in the man; but not of him. They laughed and 
they cried, they cheered and they sat silent, as 
he told his story of ruin and redemption. No 
pen can adequately describe his conversion as 
he told it that night. Indeed, as he depicted 
the scene, Mr. Outwright exclaimed, under his 
breath : 

“Inspired! Inspired!” 

And so, indeed, it appeared to all when he 
exclaimed, in exultant voice and with beam- 
ing face : 

“The Great Physician cures drunkenness! 
The love of Jesus alone can save a polluted soul! 
I am saved, praise the Tord !” 

When he shouted these words and stood si- 
lent, a heavenly light falling over him, the con- 
gregation, under the leading of Thaddeus, arose 
and sang: 

“Jesus saves ! Jesus saves !” 

But no one was prepared for what followed ; 
for Tingleman had taken counsel of no person 
as to the step he was about to take. In the si- 
lence which followed the singing of the verse 
just mentioned, in the hush of expectancy, Tin- 
gleman, who had remained standing, said, in sad 
tones, in a voice husky with emotion, and with a 
pallid face that told plainly how deep was his 
feeling : 

“My friends, one word more. I can not per- 


THE DAY-DAWN. 


371 


mit this opportunity to pass without saying 
something that will distress you, I fear, and yet 
I must say it. First, though, let me publicly 
declare my debt of gratitude to Thaddeus Throck- 
morton for his persistent interest in me. God 
bless him ! Let me publicly declare my obliga- 
tion to Mrs. Throckmorton for the care she has 
given my children. I want her to keep them a 
while longer ; for I suppose their father must 
leave them, though he longs to take them to his 
heart. But I have a duty to perform. Let me 
do that duty. Though redeemed from sin, though 
cleansed by the precious blood of Jesus Christ, 
though my pardon has been signed, sealed, and 
delivered by the King, — yet — yet — Dare I say 
it? Dare I, with prison-gates opening before 
me, with a felon’s fate awaiting me, — dare I say 
what is now trembling on my lips to be said? 
Yes ; in the name of my Blessed Master, and by 
his help, I can and do say it, let the consequences 
be what they may ! Before the law of my State 
I am a guilty wretch, worthy of punishment. I 
will take my punishment. I am a burglar ! 
Judge Tracy’s house, and several others in this 
place, were burglarized by me ! I await the ac- 
tion of the law.” 

He turned and walked off the platform, and 
left the church by the rear exit. The great con- 
gregation sat stupefied. The pastor beckoned 


372 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


them to their feet, and in words spoken but little 
above a whisper, he dismissed the people, and 
they went out, wondering what would come of 
it all. 

Tingleman went straight to Thaddeus’s home. 
The next day, as he expected, he was arrested ; 
and refusing bail, though urged upon him by 
Thaddeus and others, went to jail to await his 
trial at the next term of court. 

A large reward had been offered for the de- 
tection and conviction of the burglar who had 
been such a terror to Brambleville in the past. 
It was too good a chance for the chief of police 
to miss, and hence the prompt arrest of Tin- 
gleman. 


XXXV. 

MISHAPS AND HAPS. 



ANY who doubted the genuineness of Tin- 


gleman’s conversion, and who listened to 
his recital of his personal experiences with but 
little real interest, were convinced by his confes- 
sion and his willingness, almost eagerness, to 
suffer punishment at the hands of the courts. 
They said he proved his faith by his works. 

Not one in the audience that night gave closer 
attention to what Tingleman said than did Miss 
Josie Tracy. She was, in the depths of her soul, 
a believer in abstinence from the use of intox- 
icants, and she detested the traffic in liquors 
with intensest feeling. As Tingleman talked, 
she forgot who he had been, and looked upon 
him as only an ardent advocate of the principles 
she loved so dearly. She was charmed with his 
frankness, delighted with his burning love for 
the Master, irresistibly attracted by his manner 
of delivery, though at times uncouth and a little 
boisterous. 

She fell to planning how she could enlist 
him in a temperance campaign — forgetting, for 
a moment, her relations to Wendell — and had a 


25 


373 


374 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


series of meetings arranged in her mind, when 
his confession came like a stroke of lightning, 
and demolished her fine castles in the air. She 
had thought how, at the close of the meeting, 
she would go to him, congratulate him on his 
success, assure him of her sympathy, and was 
going to say, “I am proud to be called your 
cousin” — a relationship the judge had never 
acknowledged between himself and Mrs. Tingle- 
man ; but, alas ! for such a fair speech and such 
a late rendering of justice. The confession 
spoiled that ! 

And yet she could not get rid of the confes- 
sion, nor could she banish from her thoughts his 
touching allusions to his wife, and the utter fail- 
ure of her pure and unfaltering love to save him 
from drink, and that, too, when he loved her so 
passionately. 

Slowly and painfully she reached the conclu- 
sion that it was folly for her to hope to save 
Wendell in that way. She shrank from a life 
that should take on a tithe of the misery which 
Tingleman had said his habits had brought to 
his home. The more she thought upon it, the 
stronger became her desire to escape such a fate. 
But how? What excuse had she? Not decep- 
tion. That would have done once, but not now; 
for she had condoned Wendell’s relapses, and 
after them had replighted herself to him — not 


MISHAPS AND HAPS. 


375 


formally, of course ; but by consent, at least. 
And thus the days went by, with ever-increas- 
agony of soul. Was there no deliverance ? 
In sheer desperation, and with but little concern 
as to what would come of it, yet with a feeling 
that she owed something to Tingleman, and 
with a belief that she could, by ministering to 
him, forget her own misery, she determined to 
visit him in jail. It was easy to induce Jennie 
Jessup to accompany her; for had not Thaddeus 
been to the jail every day ? and where he went 
she loved to go. Together they called, and 
found Tingleman in the debtors’ room, and not 
confined in the cell where other criminals were 
locked up. 

While they were visiting the prisoner, a most 
extraordinary occurrence was taking place in the 
registrar’s office. There was not a more pru- 
dent business man in Brambleville than Judge 
Tracy; but he had suffered himself to become 
connected with a prosperous farmer in cattle 
speculation, and after a little went into specula- 
tions on the Chicago Board of Trade, and finally 
was involved in a wild scheme to force a corner 
on lard. Draft after draft was sent forward to 
cover margins until his available resources were 
exhausted. At the last, his partner gave a check 
for a large amount, signed by the firm name, 
and it came back to the home bank for collec- 


376 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


tion. Judge Tracy was director in that bank. 
The check was honored, but the president re- 
quired a mortgage to secure the bank. This 
was promptly given, and it was quietly put on 
record. But Wendell Morrison saw it, and he 
knew that should the Chicago transaction fail, 
Judge Tracy would be bankrupt; for the mort- 
gage included even the home-place. That after- 
noon the news was published all over the coun- 
try that the lard corner had failed, and its backers 
were ruined. 

Without the appearance of undue haste, and 
yet so soon after this startling news reached 
Brambleville that one might suppose he had not 
heard of it at all, Wendell was sauntering up 
the broad pavement leading to Judge Tracy’s 
door, deliberately scheming to provoke a mis- 
understanding, and make that an excuse for 
breaking the engagement. 

He found Miss Josie in the parlor with his 
cousin Jennie Jessup, having just returned from 
the jail. They were enthusiastically planning 
a campaign, when Tingleman should be par- 
doned ; for Thaddeus had said, though convicted, 
as he probably would be, the governor would 
pardon him on the petition that would go up 
from Brambleville. 

Wendell listened to their conversation, and 
found in it his wished-for pretext. He pre- 


MISHAPS AND HAPS. 


377 


tended to be incensed at such scheming, with 
such a man as Tingleman for the leading part. 

“Cousin Jennie,” he said, with ill-concealed 
scorn, “you do discredit to your family!” 

“Pardon me, Cousin Wendell,” she said, rising, 
her face flushing deep red as she spoke; “but I 
think not. But I will bid you good-bye, dear,” 
she added, addressing Miss Tracy. “Cousin 
Wendell called to see you, and I must go home 
anyway.” 

Kissing Miss Tracy, she went out, leaving 
the two alone in the parlor. 

“Miss Josie,” Wendell said, when his cousin 
was gone, “I hope you will not do anything of 
the kind. You quite forget your position. Tin- 
gleman is a self-confessed burglar, and, until 
very lately, a notorious bum, drinking and gam- 
bling and — ” 

“Excuse me, Mr. Morrison! Consider what 
he is, not what he was. He is a self-confessed 
burglar; but he is also a self-confessed Christian, 
and is willing to suffer for his sins, in order that 
his Christian character may the more clearly be 
seen.” 

“Quite true, my — Miss Josie; but let senti- 
ment and gush control you, and where will you 
end? Though it pains me to do so, I must be 
firm, and must insist — not to command you— 
that you have nothing to do with this business.” 


378 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


“You forget, Mr. Morrison, that we have not 
reached the place where you may command me,” 
Miss Josie replied, with flaming cheeks. 

“Then you insist on having your way in this 
matter?” 

“I most assuredly do !” she said firmly, her 
face burning as fire in her hot indignation at his 
cool dictation. 

“I must warn you of the consequences,” he 
said, with exasperating coolness. 

“What are they?” she asked. 

“A broken engagement.” 

“I accept them!” 

“Do I understand you?” he asked in sur- 
prise, a little taken aback by her prompt reply. 

“I hope you do,” she said, facing him un- 
flinchingly. “The consequences are a broken 
engagement. I accept it.” 

“Do I understand you to mean that you de- 
sire to be free?” 

“That is my desire,” Miss Josie said, with 
intense earnestness. Continuing, she said: “And 
I understand you to mean that you desire to be 
free. I am not surprised, except that it has 
come sooner than I expected. I grant you your 
request. You are free!” 

“But we part as friends?” he said, seeing 
that he was dismissed, when he had come to dis- 
miss her. 


MISHAPS AND HAPS. 


379 


“As friends,” she replied. “You asked for 
release. I granted it. And now I take mine, 
and give you back this ring.” 

He took it mechanically, looked at it a mo- 
ment, slipped it into his vest-pocket, mentally 
calculating its worth when returned to the jew- 
eler, and said, rather stiffly: 

“I bid you good-afternoon !” 

“ Good-afternoon !” 

Miss Josie sought her own room. 

“What a happy escape!” she said aloud, as 
she rocked restlessly in the little chair she had 
had since a girl. “What a happy escape!” 

Then, bathing her flushed face, and changing 
her street attire for something more comfortable, 
she threw herself upon the sofa, little knowing 
that she had indeed escaped a cruel fate. But, 
poor heart, another bitter experience was await- 
ing her — the crushing sorrow attending the 
wrecking of a fortune in an hour. She knew 
not that at that moment the roof above her head 
belonged to another. 

Wendell did not stop at half-steps. Before 
another week had passed, he had dissolved part- 
nership with Judge Tracy. He looked upon the 
judge as a crushed man. He did not expect 
him ever to rally from the blow. He could do 
better alone in the law-business, and he was soon 
established in another office. 


380 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


It was well. Thaddeus had been admitted 
to practice long before this ; but as he could not 
dispose of the Banner office, he kept right on edit- 
ing the paper, though his heart was in the law. 

The dissolution notice of Tracy & Morrison 
was scarcely in type before Thaddeus was in 
Judge Tracy’s office, seeking an interview. 

“Judge,” Thaddeus said, holding his friend’s 
hand in a tight grasp, “I can not forget that you 
were my father’s friend ; nor can I ever forget 
your kindness to me when starting in the news- 
paper business. I hope you believe me, Judge, 
when I say I despaired of ever making you un- 
derstand how deeply grateful I have been.” 

Thaddeus paused a moment, for his voice was 
heavy with emotion. 

“ Sit down ! Sit down!” the judge said, with 
unsteady voice, pointing to a chair, as Thaddeus 
released his hand. 

“Let me beg of you to command what service 
you will of me, and I will gladly respond. You 
know what fortune has befallen me. I am free 
now to leave the Banner office. I want to enter 
the law, regularly and permanently.” 

Judge Tracy’s sore and hungry heart divined 
his meaning at once, and he cast a quick and in- 
quiring glance at Thaddeus, and said : 

“Would you come in with me now, when I 
am a ruined man ?” 


MISHAPS AND HAPS. 


38i 


“If you would let me,” Thaddeus said, 
humbly. 

“ Let you ! Thad, I want you ! I am broken 
in heart, in fortune, and almost in mind, and yet 
I have business here for others that needs atten- 
tion that I can not give it. It would be worth 
ten years of my life to have some one I can trust 
to take it. Will you help me, Thad?” 

“ Say no more, Judge ! To-morrow, if you 
say so, to-morrow I will move in. I have already 
engaged Ralph Reynolds to take the Banner .” 

“Come right along! Come to-day, if you 
will! Stay while you are here!” 

When Thaddeus left, the judge strode home- 
ward with such haste, and at such an unusual 
hour, that his wife went half way down to the 
gate to meet him, supposing he was ill or out of 
his mind. 

“ What, dear ! What now?” she eagerly and 
anxiously asked. 

“Good news! I have a new partner, and 
business will go right along. Thaddeus Throck- 
morton is going in with me ! He is not brilliant, 
as I have always said, but he is honest and true. 
I would trust all I have in his hands!” 

The judge faltered, for his voice was getting 
more tears in it than he could manage. Adver- 
sity had crushed his heart and had opened up a 
fountain long sealed. Passing into his study, he 


382 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


closed the door, and, burying his face in his 
hands, let the tears flow and trickle through his 
fingers to the floor. He was glad and thankful 
for this young and wise and vigorous friend ! 

Thaddeus gave himself to the judge’s busi- 
ness, and, after weeks of weary work, it was 
settled in such a way that, though every foot of 
land Judge Tracy had possessed, including his 
home, was mortgaged, he was permitted to re- 
tain his residence property; and after another 
long delay it was deeded back to him. Just 
how it was done no one knew, except Thaddeus, 
and he never told. 

Tingleman was convicted and sentenced, as 
was expected; but he did not see inside the 
prison-walls, for he was promptly pardoned by 
the governor on the petition of all Brambleville, 
except the saloon-keepers. He did not return to 
Kansas City, but spent his time in going from 
town to town in that vicinity “lecturing,” he 
said, but knowing ones called it “ preaching.” 
Whatever it was, it was wonderfully effective. 
Miss Josie called him “Cousin Henry,” and with 
her mother, went with him to many of his ap- 
pointments. She was a great help to him. She 
freely, but judiciously and very kindly, criticised 
his speeches ; pointed out errors, and suggested 
improvements, until he came to be reckoned one 
of the most eloquent advocates the temperance 


MISHAPS AND HAPS. 


383 


cause had. She was very proud of his native abil- 
ity, and justly so ; and she took great delight in 
his manifest improvement under her tutorage. 
His large-heartedness, his entire consecration, and 
his success won her heart to warmest praise. 
He came to look upon her as his chief support. 
Her advice was always the best. Her choice 
was always his. She had no occasion to worry 
over the problem of saving him as she had done 
in Wendell’s case. He was saved ! — saved by 
love divine and grace omnipotent ! 

The next year witnessed a campaign that in- 
cluded the whole State — every city, and all the 
larger towns sharing in the grand work. But 
before it was commenced, there was a quiet gath- 
ering of a few friends at Judge Tracy’s, when 
Mr. Outwright pronounced the words that made 
Henry Tingleman and Miss Josie Tracy husband 
and wife. The announcement of the marriage 
came as a great surprise to many people; but 
they were thinking of Miss Tracy, the proud 
heiress, and Henry Tingleman, the burglar and 
drunkard. That would have been a shocking 
union, indeed! But the two thus united were 
Miss Tracy, a young lady of poor but respectable 
parents, and Henry Tingleman, the Christian 
gentleman and eloquent temperance worker. 
Such a marriage as that was not only not aston- 
ishing, but was most eminently a happy con- 


3&4 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


summation, since it was productive of untold 
good to multitudes, who listened and rejoiced as 
they sang and spoke, night after night, for a 
whole year. 

As for Thaddeus, he was wedded to his 
mother’s happiness. The years slipped by. He 
grew in experience, and increased in wealth, and 
became a leader in all great reforms, filling Judge 
Tracy’s place in public affairs, as well as man- 
aging his law business. 

As for Miss Jennie Jessup, she, too, was de- 
voted to her mother. True, through Thad- 
deus’s efforts they came into possession of a 
very profitable piece of real estate, which, but 
for his investigation, would have remained in 
the undisputed estate of the Morrisons. The 
proceeds from this property enabled them to 
live entirely at ease. Both Thaddeus and Miss 
Jennie were happy and contented. They watched 
with tenderest care over the mothers as they 
descended to the river’s brink. They were 
much together; for their homes came to be side 
by side — new and handsome residences on the 
principal, indeed the only, avenue of Bramble- 
ville. They had promised “ to wait,” and they 
were waiting, very patiently and very lovingly, 
until the time should come when one home 
should do for both, and when neither heart 
would feel that it had lost a treasure. 


XXXYI. 


A DOUBLE ACCIDENT. 

P ESPITE his drunkenness, Wendell Mor- 
rison had phenomenal success as a lawyer, 
and never lost his prominence in political circles. 
He turned his attention to criminal practice, 
from which he received large fees, and was 
called to defend cases in all courts of the State. 
He ceased to be the genteel and always polite 
lawyer, and grew into a heavy, brutish, and boor- 
ish politician, whose claim to respect rested only 
upon his unaccountable success at the bar and 
the political arena. He was despotic and selfish, 
and yet men fawned upon him and shouted his 
praises on every occasion. Among his relatives 
none were more attached to him than his Aunt 
Jessup, and he reciprocated her affection as far 
as it was possible for one of his nature to return 
affection in any degree. In her old age she 
trusted implicitly to his advice and his control. 

One beautiful autumn day, when Jennie was 
in Mrs. Throckmorton’s home, Wendell drove 
up in a handsome new phaeton, and asked his 
aunt to take a turn about town, saying : 

“ You are the first to ride in it. I would not 

385 


386 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


let my own mother ride in it until I had taken 
‘Aunt Jessup’ out for an airing.” 

“Is the horse quite safe, Wendell?” she 
asked, when about to step in the phaeton. 

“ Safe as myself,” Wendell said, as he 
stepped in after his aunt was seated. 

The horse was a fine specimen, high-spirited 
and powerful, strong enough to draw a dozen 
light phaetons like the one to which he was at- 
tached. He was kind, though so high-spirited, 
but very full of play as well. Had Wendell only 
been sober ! But he was not. 

A piece of paper blew down the street. The 
horse, more in play than in fright, turned sharply 
about, overturned the phaeton, and then, in fright 
sure enough, ran down the street, dragging Wen- 
dell under the overturned vehicle for some dis- 
tance, having left Mrs. Jessup in front of her 
own house, unconscious and dying. Before the 
sun went down her spirit took its flight. Wen- 
dell was carried home, cursing the horse and the 
cause of its fright. He lingered several days in 
misery from internal injuries, and died at the 
very height of his fame and his power — died, 
when he might have lived for years had he left 
strong drink alone. The injuries received were 
not sufficient causes of his death. He might 
have recovered from them very speedily, if his 
physical condition had not proved specious, and 


A DOUBLE ACCIDENT. 387 

his recuperative powers had not been under- 
mined by the use of intoxicants. 

* * * * * * 

“Which shall it be?” said Thaddeus, as he 
stopped on the walk, half way between the two 
houses, one evening, as he and Miss Jessup re- 
turned from a moonlight stroll ; for Henry Tin- 
gleman had come down for a little chat with 
Mrs. Throckmorton, and they could be out with- 
out leaving her alone with the servants — some- 
thing Thaddeus never did, except at urgent calls 
to business. 

“Which shall it be?” Jennie said, repeating his 
words with a different inflection. “I say neither I' 1 

“But were we not to decide when we came 
back whether we would take your house or 
mine ?” 

“And I have decided!” she said, turning 
away, and walking off a little alone. “ I say 
neither !” 

“Pray, then what?” he asked. 

“A new one! Let it be ‘ our house P One 
we both shall plan, and both help to build. One 
which we shall occupy first of all,” she said, 
blushingly, as she came back to him extending 
both hands, which he clasped in his. 

“As you say, my queen. But, dear, that is 
so long to wait ! A year at least ! Even by this 
pale moonlight you can see what ‘waiting’ has 


3 88 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


done for me,” he said, turning the side of his 
head toward her, that she might see the gray 
hairs which wdiitened the lock he brushed back 
over his ear. 

“ But what is a year to the twenty I have 
waited ?” she replied. 

“Please do not be so exact, dear!” he replied, 
deprecatingly. “It is time you and I begin to 
forget dates. As dear old Seth used to say, we 
must count how young we are, not how old.” 

“ Be it so. Bet me ask : Is it not the custom 
for the groom to take his bride to his home? 
Shall not that decide ?” 

He put his arm through hers, and, gently 
turning her about, started to walk toward his own 
home, when there emerged from the shadow of 
the great trees, Mr. and Mrs. Christie. 

“ Hello, Thad ! Ha ! ha ! We thought we 
would — ah ! — take a little walk — ha ! ha ! — down 
your way, a kind of a — ha! ha! — anniversary 
parade, as it were — O ! ha ! — or a promenade, I 
should have said.” 

“ That is so /” Jennie replied, enthusiastically. 
“This is your anniversary! Five years is it?” 

“Ten!” said Mrs. Christie, with a kind of 
triumphant air. 

“One! Ha! ha!” Mr. Christie said. “Only 
one, Thad — ha! ha! — if it is a day.” 

“ Ten to Mrs. Christie, and one to you, Mr. 


A DOUBLE ACCIDENT. 389 

Christie. Where ’s the compliment?” Thaddeus 
asked, laughingly. 

“It is really only five,” Mrs. Christie said; 
“ but I have had happiness enough for ten years; 
so I call it ten.” 

“It is really — ha! ha! — only five; but — ah! 
O! — I have lost my reckoning — ha! ha! — and 
always say one, to be sure!” 

“We have your cards, my dear,” Mrs. Christie 
said, speaking to Miss Jessup, while the gentle- 
men discussed some other topic. “ I am so glad 
for you. You will have a jewel of a husband. 
It is so nice you can go to your Aunt Morrison’s. 
And then, will you come right home to Mrs. 
Throckmorton’s ?” 

“Not for a year. We shall go to Europe. 
Thad’s mother is going to Judge Tracy’s until 
we come back.” 

“ That will be nice!” 

“And then we shall go right into our new 
home. We expect it will be done and furnished 
by that time. All the plans are made, and the 
furniture selected.” 

“ How lovely !” 

“Mr. and Mrs. Tingleman will occupy our 
house— my house, I mean— and when we come 
back we are going to give them a deed for it. 
But that is to be a secret, mind you. Do n’t tell.” 
“ Excuse me, but — ah! ha ! ha! — Miss Jessup, 

26 


390 


AN ODD FELLOW. 


I may never have the opportunity again of walk- 
ing with you — ha! ha! — not as Miss Jessup. Ha ! 
ha ! Do me the honor !” 

Mr. Christie bowed profoundly, and offered 
his arm to Miss Jennie, who accepted it with a 
gentle bow, and they moved down the avenue, 
leaving Thaddeus and Mrs. Christie to follow, 
strolling around the square in the bright moon- 
light, and returning to Thaddeus’s home just as 
Mr. Tingleman came down the steps, saying : 

“I ’d better be going, for here come Josie and 
the boys after me!” 

And so they were coming. An animated trio, 
indeed they were ! The two boys had Mrs. Tin- 
gleman by her arms, and were hurrying along, 
talking rapidly, and all as happy as birds. 

“The happiest family on earth!” Tingleman 
said, proudly, pointing toward the three, and 
striking his breast softly. 

Mr. Christie and Thaddeus smiled incredu- 
lously, and looked down into the faces of the 
ladies at their sides, and both said in the same 
instant : 

“ Except ours !” 

“ That is odd !” Tingleman exclaimed; wav- 
ing his hand in greeting to his wife and the boys, 
and continuing; “we are each contending for 
first place in real enjoyment at home. My home 
is heaven !” 


A DOUBLE ACCIDENT. 


391 


“It is odd,” Thaddeus said, laughingly ; “but 
then we are all odd fellows !” 

“ So you are,” Mrs. Tingleman said, coming 
up just then, “ or rather were , before the boys 
and I arrived. But see, we make you even ; for 
there are just eight of us.” 

Without suggestion from any one, but by mu- 
tual impulse, each locked arms with those on 
either side, and thus made a complete circle, 
while Thaddeus said : 

“ Odd fellows indeed ! But, linked by Truth, 
we make a perfect chain of Friendship and Love!” 


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